


Long Way Home

by i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: And By That I Mean, Dadgil, F/M, Family, Growth, Healing, Hurt and comfort, V was like youre welcome, Vergil needs a hug, and now he and lady have to deal with it, but they're finally home, depends on if kae is brave enough, its a journey, rating might change in later chapters we shall see, the boys try to be brothers, v acted on emotions that vergil meant to keep hidden forever, vergil has to deal with the actions of urizen AND v, vergil x lady
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 62,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate/pseuds/i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate
Summary: The past is like a bad dream, and Vergil is finally awake. There's still much of the nightmare left entangled in his life and the lives of those around him. It's a long journey home, but with the help of his family and loved ones maybe he can finally make it there... after three decades of running away.
Relationships: Kyrie/Nero (Devil May Cry), Lady/V (Devil May Cry), Lady/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 135
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**_“There are other ways to settle your differences…”_ **

_He was standing, at the top of the Qliphoth, wind whipping through his short hair and stinging his eyes. And before him stood his father and uncle, swords clashing together, rage written in the lines of the faces and deep-set in their pale blue eyes._ I have to stop them. _Nero took in a breath._ I can’t let them kill each other. _He moved to run towards them, to grab them, to shake some sense into them. But… his feet were stuck to the ground. He couldn’t… move… Panic was building within him as if rope was being wound around his chest and tightened until he couldn’t breathe. “Stop!” He wailed, reaching out desperately, struggling against the invisible force that held him back. “Please, stop! Stop fighting!”_

 _The swords clashed again and again, and then, he watched in horror as they landed their blows. Plenty of times he had seen Dante and Vergil take blows from swords and bullets from guns to come out hardly scathed. But this time, as the swords struck skin, they began to turn to dust. Nero screamed out for them, as blood pooled at his feet, and rose to his ankles, and then to his knees. Still, he struggled against his bonds._ No! No! This can’t be real! _“Dante!!! …” He hesitated, heart pounding in his ribs. “Dante! Vergil!”_

* * *

**29 JUNE ~ 10:45 AM**

Nero woke up to the soft humming of a familiar tune and a warm hand gently cupping his cheek. He blinked awake slowly. He had fallen asleep on the couch… probably hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before. With how bright the sun was it was probably only late morning. 

“Kyrie?” He murmured as she leaned over him and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she smiled, but there was worry in her eyes. “You were talking in your sleep. It sounded like a nightmare.” She began to kneel on the floor beside him, but Nero quickly sat up, freeing space on the couch for her to sit with him. “Are you alright?” She asked, gently rubbing his shoulder as she sat. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, scratching the back of his head. What _had_ he been dreaming about? He couldn’t remember. “What was I saying in my sleep?” He laughed a little. Kyrie looked anxious, pressing her hands together and glancing away. 

“W-well,” she said, “You… you said something about your father.” _Turned to dust…_ Suddenly his chest felt tight like he was being crushed by some invisible weight. He could almost feel the blood pooling around his knees. He felt nauseous, his stomach twisting into knots. 

“Nero…” Kyrie whispered, her hand pressed to his chest. “Nero, breathe. You’re not breathing…” He took in a shuddering breath, his hands shaking. Kyrie took them to steady them. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. 

“Don’t be,” he shook his head, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. “This isn’t your fault, Kyrie.” It had been two weeks and not once had he cried. But looking into the eyes of the love of his life, he felt the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes… the wall he had built up to hold back the emotions was crumbling. Had he made the right decision? He should have gone with them… they destroyed the tree and closed the portal, sure. But what if they were killing each other now? That day… for the first time in all his life… Nero could finally say he had a family: blood relatives. And now… 

“Nero…?” Kyrie whispered, holding his face in her hands. The things Vergil… his _father_ … had said… echoing in his mind. _“You disappoint me, Nero_.” Why did that hurt so much? And why did it hurt even more to think that maybe he and Dante were both dead? And that even if they weren’t… maybe Nero would never see either of them again? Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision. 

“K-Kyrie,” he whispered, hands grasping her hips gently. 

“It’s alright,” she said, “I’m here.” 

He dropped into her arms, letting his tears roll down his cheeks. “Dammit!” He hissed, “It’s so stupid.” He bit his lip. 

“No,” Kyrie shook her head, gently rubbing his back. “It’s not, Nero. It’s okay to cry… for a family member. Even if it’s one you don’t know well.” 

“I feel…” he hesitated, trying to encapsulate his emotions into words. “I feel… confused and… What if I made the wrong choice, Kyrie? By letting them go alone? I stopped them once, but what if they’re killing each other right now?” 

“You have to trust yourself, Nero. You made a decision from the heart, to stop them. To try and get them to see clearly. And it worked, didn’t it? You have to trust that your actions that day will leave a mark on both their hearts.” 

“I… had so many questions.” He whispered resting his head against her shoulder. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, nails softly grazing his scalp in a gentle massage. “All I got instead was that dumb book.” He regretted the words instantly. His father had tossed him the book, clearly the book of a child. And if V had carried it around with him everywhere it must have been an important part of Vergil’s life. He had been reading the poems over and over in the hopes that he might better understand his father, but he hardly understood a word of them. 

“That book was a promise, wasn’t it?” Kyrie said. “That he’ll be back. And then he can answer all your questions, can’t he?” 

“Yeah…” Nero frowned. “A promise.” 

How long would it take for Dante and Vergil to find their way out of hell? Maybe… 

Nero sat up, a plan slowly forming in his mind. Maybe there was a way he could help on this side. If anyone knew about the underworld and how to get in and out it would be Trish, wouldn’t it? Nero grinned, cupping Kyrie’s cheeks and pulling her into a sweet kiss. 

“Thank you, Kyrie,” He whispered, hopping up from the couch and wiping away the evidence of tears from his face. 

“Where are you going?” Kyrie asked, bewildered. 

“I’m going to find a way to help my family come home.” He paused in the doorway to see her smile brightly, clasping her hands together. She was like sunshine, pure and radiant. His driving force. 

“I believe in you!” She said. He nodded, offering her a crooked smile. _I can do this. I can do this._

It didn’t take long to get in contact with the two hunters—friends of his uncle’s: Lady and Trish. They met at the place where the Qliphoth once stood, holding a little meeting in the van. 

“You know Dante, Nero,” Trish said with a sigh. “He comes back when he comes back.” 

Lady rolled her eyes, “Yes, _very_ typical of Dante to leave the cleaning to us.” 

“This was different,” Nero shook his head. “Besides, I…” He gritted his teeth, “They just have to come back, alright? What if they’re killing each other down there, then what?” 

Lady and Trish exchanged a glance. “That would be like them,” Lady said. 

Nero threw his hand up, “I should have gone with them, to make sure--” 

“You’re right where you need to be,” Lady frowned, “Dante and Vergil trusted you to take care of things here, you said.” She paused, studying him. “You said this was different. What do you mean?” 

Nero hesitated, irritation building up like pressure in his chest. “I don’t want to _talk_!” He snapped, hands balling into fists. “I want to _do_ something. Trish! Tell me there’s something we can _do_!” 

“If you’re itchin’ for something to do, there’s plenty of demons left behind by that dumb house plant,” Nico said from the driver’s seat. 

“You know that’s not what I mean!” Nero growled. 

“What makes this time different?” Lady asked again. Nero glanced away. 

“Him,” Trish whispered. “ _Nero_ makes this time different.” 

Nero stood suddenly, “I need some air.” Kicking open the van door and jumping out. It slammed with a reverberating _bang_ through the vehicle. 

It had been dumb to ask them for help… maybe they were right. Maybe there was nothing to be done anyways. Dante would come back eventually. But Nero had a fear, deep inside, that if he left things alone Dante would come back _alone._

Nero took a breath, reaching down to pick up a piece of crumbled asphalt as the door to the van opened behind him. He threw the crumbling asphalt with a yell, watching it shatter as it hit the ground. 

“I’m not really in the mood to talk,” he said, kicking another rock with all his strength. It shot down the crumbling street, bouncing past remains of Qliphoth roots, and tumbling through a crack to the sewers below. Trish crossed her arms, letting out a sigh. 

“Then don’t. I’ll do the talking for both of us.” She said. “I know you’re doubting yourself, and your uncle and father.”

“I’m not doubting anything,” Nero leaned over grasping another stone and tossing it down the street, watching it clatter against the broken concrete. “I know I made the right choice.” He glanced down at his boots on solid ground, biting his lip. “I _know_ I made the right choice.” He repeated. “I know things can get better.” Then he paused, “The hell you mean doubting Dante and Vergil?” 

“You’re worried about them.” 

“Hell no!” Nero spat shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Lie all you want, you’re as bad at it as your uncle,” Trish said. “I can’t tell you if they’ll be coming back soon, I know Dante will be there for Vergil now, and that’s what they both need. If everything V said is true, then… healing is possible for both of them.” 

Nero hesitated as he reached to pluck another piece of rubble from the street. It was quiet. He felt like he was gonna lose it. The sun was high in the sky above the crumbling buildings of the city. His father… his uncle… He had sworn that he would save them. But now, for some reason, it felt like he had failed. To gain his family, to strive to help them, only to be unable to do anything but watch them slip away once more…. it made him sick to his stomach. 

“Thanks, Trish,” He said, clutching the rubble in his hand, He tossed the rock, and listened to it echo through the empty street as it bounced. 

“But… If you feel that strongly about it, while we finish cleaning up this mess, Lady and I will help you try and find ways to help them on their way home.” 

Nero glanced up, “You sure?” 

The door to the van opened, and Lady stepped out. She looked weary, anxious. But she nodded. “Of course.” She smiled a little. “After all… Dante and Vergil ought to help clean up this mess a little too, don’t you think?” 

* * *

**_15 JUNE ~ 8:57 AM_ **

_She had woken from what seemed to be a dream... They said a month had passed, but to her it had been nothing but moments. Moving shadows, voices whispering in her head, and his hold on her mind growing tighter and tighter. Sitting on the old couch in the van, Lady felt alone, hollow. Like she had been carved away at until she was empty. But, no way in hell was she going to let this bastard—_ Urizen, that’s right _—get away with this. She gripped her blanket tightly around her shoulders. Nero was talking to Nico, on the other side of the van, and there was that man… V…_

 _Now, looking at him more closely there was something about him. He seemed so, so familiar. It was the strangest feeling._ You’re just groggy… _She thought to herself._ Still waking up _._

_But then V had said something that made her doubt herself. He sat at the door of the van, his soft green eyes tracing over her features before he murmured, “I’m glad to see you look so well.”_

_Now, she was sure that she had experienced this before...that she knew him._ Deja vu _. She frowned, hesitating, before whispering, “You too… I guess…”_

_She was still processing what had just happened when V let out a sigh, and then stepped outside the van into the rain, presumably to wait for Nero who was still collecting new Devil Breakers from Nico. It was clear the mysterious man preferred the quiet to Nico’s excited voice, displaying all the things this new arm could do for Nero. Maybe now was Lady’s chance… for what? She wasn’t sure… to get some answers?_

_She stood, gathering her courage, wrapping the blanket tightly around her, and followed V outside. The rain felt good on her skin, cold droplets hitting her cheeks and shoulders. It had been a month since she had felt anything… V was pacing, cane twirling in one hand, his precious book tucked under his other arm and protected from the rain. He turned when he heard her, and his expression flickered with worry._

_“You,” he said calmly, “Should not be up.”_

_“What are you, V?” She asked, “Who is that demon—Urizen? What is he?” Straight to the point._

_But V already had his hands on her shoulders and was ushering her to sit on a crumbled wall. He let out a deep sigh, “Urizen is destruction incarnate. Destruction to the world, destruction to even himself. And I am here to stop him from both of those ends.”_

_“That doesn’t answer my question,” Lady frowned. His hand was warm against her shoulder, she hadn’t been expecting that._ More deja vu? I must really be delusional. _She felt… drawn to V… the way lightning was drawn to the earth during a storm. Maybe it was that they had met once in a past life? She almost believed it, the way he looked at her with fondness… like he knew her._

_“All will be revealed in due time,” he said._

_Fine, if he wasn’t going to be straightforward with her, she should at least go with them, to make sure… to make sure they did what they had set out to accomplish. “When you go with Nero, let me come too,” Lady said, “I can still fight.”_

_“No,” V replied, his hand resting over hers. “You need your rest. Let Nero and I bring this to completion.”_

_“You can’t do this alone,” she whispered, “That demon…” she trailed off, meeting his eyes. His expression was… familiar. The pain deep-set in the forest green of his irises… she knew it, but she couldn’t say how. Still, it was obvious that whatever she had meant to say, he already knew. He wouldn’t be alone. He had Nero._

_“Fine…” she said, not taking her eyes from his, “I’ll… rest.”_

_“I know how much you prefer action,” he said, taking her hand in his, “But for now, that’s for the best.” He hesitated, holding her hand, before he lifted it to his lips and brushed the softest kiss to her knuckles. Lady’s breath caught in her throat. The door of the van slammed open, and Nero jumped out._

_“Alright—” He froze, glancing between the two of them with one brow raised, “Uh… am I interrupting?”_

_V released Lady’s hand, straightening his vest, and standing, grasping his cane tightly. Lady glanced away, feeling her cheeks go hot. “No, it’s nothing,” she mumbled. Nero glanced between the two of them once more and then let out a sigh._

_“Are you ready?” he asked V. The dark-haired man nodded; hand so tight on his cane that his knuckles were white. He glanced back at Lady once, green eyes meeting hers. “I’ll take my leave.” Nero moved to follow the man, but Lady reached out to catch his sleeve._

_“Hey,” she whispered. “We can trust him, right?”_

_Nero shrugged his shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine. He might be useful though… enough talking. Get some rest. You need it.” She watched him dash after V, skidding to a slow walk next to the man. “Hey,” he said, laughing, “You’re not pursuing Dante’s friend, are you?”_

_They were too far away for Lady to hear V’s quiet response. She was still mulling over what he had said._ “I know how much you prefer action…” _How did he know? And that kiss…. She could still feel his lips against her hand._ I must know him… _She decided._ I must know him somehow and I just can’t... remember…


	2. Chapter 2

The breath was knocked out of his lungs as the flat end of Dante’s sword slammed into Vergil’s stomach, sending both of them stumbling backward. Vergil wheezed, catching his breath and then slowly dropping down to the blood-red ground beneath him, lungs heaving for air. Dante was laughing still trying to catch his breath. “Getting tired, old man?” He snorted, raising the devil sword towards his brother. 

Vergil shook his head, still panting. “Speak for yourself.” 

Dante slowly lowered the blade, embedding the tip into the ground and leaning against the pommel in exhaustion. Neither of them moved to get up. It had been who knows how many days since they had severed the roots of the Qliphoth and closed off the portal to the human world. 

At first… things had been tense and too quiet. And Vergil felt more alone than ever. Even though Dante was there, beside him, he felt a distance between them so wide that he was sure neither of them could traverse across it. But then, laying awake side-by-side in what could be considered the _night_ of the underworld, Dante had whispered “Do you remember when we were little… and you used to read aloud your poems before bed? I remember… some of them…” 

Vergil did remember, but the memory that surfaced clearer than the rest was one of V’s. _“I have no name, I am but two days old.”_

“Dante?” Vergil had said after a moment, “Did you know V was… a part of me?” 

Dante had hesitated, “I didn’t.” He said at last, “But I recognized some of the things he said and I thought… maybe there was a connection… I thought _something_ was strange.” 

Now, sitting across from each other, it felt like since that moment the gap had been bridged… even just a little. They should talk about something—anything—since they weren’t fighting. And Vergil’s thoughts fell on… Nero. He hadn’t spoken about the boy since that day, on the Qliphoth. But he had had plenty of time to think about it. And the fact that, as V, he had thrown his son towards danger more times than he could count… it made him feel sick to his stomach. He had told Dante that his son meant nothing to him, but coming face to face with the boy changed _everything_. 

“Dante….” he whispered, having caught his breath, but not moving to stand from where he sat. “How… how did you know Nero was my son?” 

Dante blinked, standing up straight from where he had been leaning on his devil sword’s pommel. “How did I know…?” And then he laughed. “Vergil, the kid looks just like us, I mean, really.” 

“But you—”

“And _I_ certainly wasn’t getting laid in Fortuna around that time.” 

Vergil felt his face go hot and he gritted his teeth, avoiding his brother’s gaze. 

“But… that’s not all, really.” Dante mused, his voice growing softer. “I met Nero when I went to Fortuna to investigate the _Order of the Sword_.” 

“Ah yes,” Vergil smirked, “Those zealots. Nero’s mother was one of them.” 

Dante froze, pale blue eyes widening. “You remember her.” 

“Of course, I do,” Vergil said, glancing away. 

“Nero was a part of the Order at the time, though I think he really only stayed for Kyrie.”

“Kyrie?” Vergil frowned. 

“Nero’s girlfriend,” Dante explained. “I went to Fortuna to investigate... and to retrieve the Yamato,” Dante said. “I knew if the weapon fell into the wrong hands it could be disastrous. And… at the time the Order was arguably ‘the wrong hands.’ The only thing is… Nero found her first.” He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t quite know what happened when Nero first found the Yamato, but I saw him wield it. I saw the way it interacted with his arm. I knew that the Yamato knew him the same way she knows _you_. I knew he was your son.” 

_My son._ Vergil bit his lip, glancing down at his hands. He had not expected that coming face to face with his child would change everything. _Nero… is my son._

“So, you remember his mom, huh?” Dante asked, obviously fishing for more information. 

Vergil tensed. There was absolutely no reason for him to tell Dante about this… in fact, it seemed too private, too… personal. But he had no one else to talk to, and maybe it was something that needed to be said. He gripped the Yamato tight in his hands. “She was… alluring,” he whispered, “Sweet and charming… if I had stayed there, Dante… where would I be now? I don’t doubt that she had the power within her heart to change my own. Perhaps that’s why I left. If I had stayed a moment longer… If I had stayed with her… maybe I never would have raised Temen-ni-gru. Maybe Mundus…” bile rose in his throat and cut his words off. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and he was dizzy. It felt like a hand was tightening around him, crushing his every bone, squeezing his lungs until he couldn’t even gasp for breath. _“Submit, son of Sparda.”_

“Verge? Shit, Vergil!” Dante had crossed the expanse between them in only a heartbeat, gripping his brother’s shoulder, “Hey! Are you alright? You’re shaking.” 

“I’m fine!” Vergil snapped, shrugging his brother’s hand away. He regretted the action immediately. His hands were still shaking, and Dante’s brow was still furrowed, worry written in his pale blue eyes. 

“Verge?” 

“I’m alright,” he muttered, pressing his hands together so they wouldn’t shake. He took in a shuddering breath. “Will you… tell me about Nero?” 

Dante blinked, and then a small smile touched his lips as he sat down beside his brother. “Sure,” he said, “I can do that.” 

* * *

**_15 JUNE ~ 9:36 AM_ **

_“Help has arrived! Got any cash?” V took in a shuddering breath, leaning against the old phone, before turning to face the van._

_“Thank you,” he whispered, nodding to Nico in the driver’s seat._

_“Yeah, yeah,” she waved her hand, “Just doin’ my job.” And then disappeared to the back of the van. The door opened and Mary stepped out, in white cover-alls, only a little too big for her. V’s heart skipped a beat at the smile that touched her lips._

_“Well,” she said, “You look a little worse for wear. Could use a minute?” He nodded and she stepped aside, letting him come in and drop down on the couch. Oh, he wanted to tell her so many things. He remembered the day they first met all those years ago, he could still see the rage in her eyes. But even then there had been something about her that he admired. It was why he had stopped in the library. If only he could say it out loud. He gritted his teeth. Vergil would_ never _be strong enough to do it on his own. To tell her how much he admired her…_

 _“Lots of demons out there, poetry boy?” she asked, a teasing smile on her lips. The nickname Dante had used?_ Annoying. _But in her voice, it sounded nice._

_“Things are getting worse,” he said. “Nero’s still fighting them off. I had to press on. We don’t have much time. We will probably reconvene above ground.”_

_“Well, lucky for you we’re almost to the tree,” Nico said, crossing the van and plopping back down into the driver’s seat. “Then you can finally finish that bastard once and for all,” she lit a cigarette, leaning back in her seat. “Right? Right.”_

_It stung. To see how much pain he had caused these people with his own eyes._ Urizen _…_ Look what you’ve done. _He didn’t know what it would be like once he was in his own body again… Vergil’s body. To have that strength back… the strength of both man and devil. These people though…. They didn’t know that he had no intention of_ killing _Urizen. Was it selfish of him, that a month ago he had started this quest only for self-preservation? Now, maybe he saw things differently, but there was still that desperation. That drive to_ survive _._

After all this time… I’m still the selfish man who caused all this: full of rapacity and lust for power. _After all this time… He couldn’t stay idle much longer… even if his intentions were still self-serving, he had to see this through, not only for his sake but for the sake of the world._ Urizen will not win. 

_V took in a breath and stood, clutching his cane tightly. “I’ll take my leave now,” he said, “To reconvene with Nero on the surface.”_

_“That means it’s time to go back to digging!” Nico said, “We’ll see you up there!” She grinned, putting out her cigarette and turning the key in the ignition. The van roared to life._

_V nodded. “Indeed.” His eyes met Mary’s once more and there was an ache in his chest._ So many things unsaid. 

_“Stay safe.” She said. He nodded once… And then stepped out of the van, shutting the door behind him. But as he moved towards the stairs he burst into a coughing fit, his cane catching on a piece rubble he stumbled down_ hard _to his knees, scraping his hands as he landed, still struggling to breathe. The door to the van burst open and boots sounded on the cracked tile of the subway floor as Mary rushed to his side._

_“Are you alright? Maybe you should rest longer!”_

_“Please,” he took in a shuddering breath, taking her hand. “I’m alright.” He nodded. “Just tripped is all.” If she knew who he really was… would she have come rushing to his side like that? Would she have such worry written in her eyes? If she knew that he was really Vergil…. the man who raised Temen-ni-gru. The man who sought the power of Sparda, at the cost of so many lives. How would she even be able to look at him?_

_“Hey…” Her hand cupped his cheek, warm… calloused from the use of her weapons. She was closer than he had realized, deep blue and red eyes. “It’s alright to rest a little—”_

_“No. I must press on.” He hesitated. “Please, M… Lady….” He paused. “It’s very important to me that you know this…. before I go…. I’ve_ always _admired you.”_

_Her cheeks were flushed, as he stood. “V? Have we met… before?”_

_He paused, steadying himself with his cane. “Perhaps we have… a long time ago… or maybe in a past life.” He turned, gesturing at her with his book. “Nico is probably waiting for you to begin digging once more.” She made a face and he almost laughed. “I’ll leave you to it.”_

* * *

_Mary…_ Vergil turned onto his back, staring into the dim darkness of what could only be called the underworld’s “night.” There were no stars to count or to wish on. No moon to guide the way. And sleep did not come. He felt sick to his stomach with anxiety, with the knowledge that Mary certainly knew who V was now… _If we go back to the human world, what then?_ She certainly wouldn’t want to see him. And would Nero? No, probably not. After all, in the short time Vergil had known Nero, he had done nothing but bring the boy pain. Nero had every right to hate his father… to despise him. 

Then again… so did Dante. Vergil glanced over at where his brother lay on his side, facing away. Dante had every right to despise Vergil, to avoid him, to swear off seeing him for the rest of their lives… but here he was. Why? 

_Enough of these thoughts._ Vergil lay back, closing his eyes, focusing on the one thing that had always brought him comfort, mumbling the verses aloud. He still had them memorized after all this time… 

“What are you mumbling over there?” Dante said, rolling over onto his back as well. 

“I’m reciting poetry. It helps… clear my mind.” Vergil replied. 

Dante huffed a little, “Okay, fine. I’ll bite. Recite me a poem. Your favorite one.”

“I don’t have a favorite.” 

“Then just pick one.” 

Vergil paused, thinking for one moment. _Just pick one…_ He took in a breath and began. 

> _“Earth rais’d up her head,_
> 
> _From the darkness dread & drear._
> 
> _Her light fled:_
> 
> _Stony dread!_
> 
> _And her locks cover’d with gray despair._
> 
> _“Prison’d on watry shore_
> 
> _Starry Jealousy does keep my den_
> 
> _Cold and hoar_
> 
> _Weeping o’er_
> 
> _I hear the Father of the ancient men_
> 
> _“Selfish father of men_
> 
> _Cruel, jealous, selfish fear_
> 
> _Can delight_
> 
> _Chain’d in night_
> 
> _The virgins of youth and morning bear._
> 
> _“Does spring hide its joy_
> 
> _When buds and blossoms grow?_
> 
> _Does the sower_
> 
> _Sow by night?_
> 
> _Or the plowman in darkness plow?_
> 
> _“Break this heavy chain,_
> 
> _that does freeze my bones around_
> 
> _Selfish! Vain!_
> 
> _Eternal bane!_
> 
> _That free Love with bondage bound.”_

Dante was silent for a long moment. “Well, I can’t say I really understood a word of it,” he said, “But it sounds… sad.” _Prison’d on watry shore… Starry Jealousy does keep my den…_

“Yes, I suppose it is…” A cry for help? Vergil involuntarily trembled. He could see himself, standing in his home, facing away from his brother, his father, his mother. The Yamato raised in his hands. _Break this heavy chain…_

How selfish he was then, imprisoned by his own jealousy, rapacity, vanity… his own “eternal bane.” How _blind_. Instead of breaking the chain, he had only tightened the ones he already wore. He had cut off that last hope… he had thrown away the one thing that could break them. How _blind!_

“I’m sorry, Dante.” He whispered. For what? He wasn’t sure. The only response he received was the snores of his brother. He choked on his own words, turning on his side, tucking the pain away deeper and deeper… He closed his eyes, whispering again, “I’m sorry.”


	3. Chapter 3

**_15 JUNE ~ 10:18 AM_ **

So close… so close, I can feel it. _The demons Griffon had seen “dancing” would surely be near the Devil Sword. And if that was the case, V needed just a moment. He had been more relieved than he’d like to admit, to see the phone, and even more relieved to see the van. As the vehicle skidded to a halt, V was able to snatch his cane back from Griffon. The door of the van burst open and Mary hopped out, her brow furrowed. She wasn’t in the coveralls anymore. Instead, she had donned on her shorts and white coat. It reminded him of the tower._

_“Are you alright?” She asked. “We didn’t see you with Nero when he went into the… the tree…”_

_“I’m fine. I… I’m seeking the Devil Sword Sparda,” he whispered. “We’re close. I just need a moment…”_

_She helped him sit on the step to the van. “The Devil Sword Sparda?” She asked. “Are you strong enough to wield it?”_

_“Not for me. For the boy… Nero.” V said, leaning in the doorway. He could hear Nico muttering to herself as she worked on something in the back. But Mary’s focus was all on him._ Would it be this way…. if I looked the same… if I was… Vergil? _“It’s our only hope… to defeat Urizen.”_

_“You… think Dante is dead?” Mary asked._

_He had thought about it too much. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. In fact, he was so tired. He closed his eyes, leaning back. So tired… He felt like his energy was wasting away._

_“M—Lady…” he said, sitting up a little and only just realizing how close they were, he where he sat, and she where she knelt beside him. “Do you care about Dante?” Something akin to jealousy bubbled up in his heart, tightening around him like red-hot chains._

_Mary frowned. “Dante is my friend, as much of an annoying ass as he is.”_

_V chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Mm… that sounds like him.” He frowned, clutching his cane. “Dante’s too stubborn to die.” He paused, reaching out with a shaking hand to touch her cheek. “Everything I said at our last meeting…. It was all true.”_

_“You admire me.” Mary frowned, her brows drawing together. “V… who_ are _you?”_

 _“Who am I…?” V mused. “_ ‘Troubled, wilder’d, and forlorn, Dark, benighted, travel-worn, Over many a tangled spray, All heart-broke…’ _” He trailed off, “‘_ Little Wanderer…’ _Ah… Home…” he mused._

_“A poem…” Mary frowned. “Or a riddle? Quit playing games, I’m tired of dancing around the truth.”_

_“Ah-ah…” V smiled a little, gently touching his finger to her lips. “You’ll know the truth once this is finished. We made a deal, didn’t we?”_

_“Did we?”_

_They were close enough now that he could feel her breath on his cheek, she leaned closer, their noses brushing. She reached up, her fingertips touching his cheek, brushing his hair back, just a little… and then she tilted her head, eyes fluttering closed, and kissed him softly._

_What had possessed her—he had no idea, and for a moment he tensed at the taste of her lips on his, only to melt against her touch, drawing in a deep breath, kissing her back with eagerness. He had thought about kissing her before, to deny it would only be lying to himself. And Vergil… well, Vergil had seen it as a nuisance, but he couldn’t deny he had thought of kissing her and_ more _. That day he had stopped in the library… in the tower… And helped her to the top. He had thought about it then. But he knew that trying was practically a death wish. Besides, Mary had been grieving. He knew all-too-well what that was like._

 _But now… she was kissing_ him _. She was so warm, so soft, her fingers in his hair. The taste of her so sweet, for a moment he almost forgot why he was here. And then he wondered if maybe he was taking advantage of the situation, and he pulled away, just enough to look her in the eyes._ You don’t know who I really am. _He didn’t dare say it aloud. He wanted to tell her the truth because he wanted more than anything for her to accept him as he was. For her to say that it didn’t matter that he was really Vergil, that she still cared about him no matter what. But the likelihood of that…_

_If this was his last chance to hold her like he’d dreamed of before… then he would take it. He kissed her again, thumb brushing against her cheek, his other hand finding her waist. She let out a soft breath, closing her eyes, pulling him closer._

_“Hey, V!” Griffon fluttered down onto the phone booth, ruffling his feathers. V jerked away from the kiss, eyes wide, cheeks hot. “Those dancing demons are getting more agitated—ohoho! It’s only been a day and you two are already nice and cozy!”_

_Dancing demons… Right, the Devil Sword Sparda. Its presence was almost suffocating, fogging up his mind. How could he have forgotten? What kind of spell was this woman able to cast on him? “The Sparda is waiting for us…” V said, rising to his feet, gripping his cane tightly. “We should press on.”_

_“V…” Mary whispered._

_“Find Nero,” he said. “I’ll reconvene with you as soon as I can.”_

_“I_ bet _you will,” Griffon cackled. V offered the bird a withering glare._

_“Come on,” he said again, “The Devil Sword is calling.”_

* * *

**2 SEPTEMBER ~ 2:34 AM**

“You think this one could be it?” Nero asked, leaning back in his seat in the van to meet Lady’s eyes. She shrugged, tying her boots. 

“Either that or another ridiculous exaggeration.” She let out a sigh. She had played Nero’s game for too long. She knew well enough as Trish did that Dante would be back when he came back. That was that. Whether or not Vergil was with him, well… that was a different matter. But she understood the boy—more than he knew. That desperation she saw in his eyes. He would never say it aloud, but that day on the Qliphoth he had hope… hope with that childhood dream rekindling. Someone to call himself a part of: a family, only to have it torn away just when he had received it. She knew that feeling. She could still feel it, shaking her to her core, the wind stinging her face as she stood above her father on the tower. 

But even now, as she still followed Nero on his jobs, on all the leads he found… she was losing hope. Maybe they would never see Dante or Vergil again. The thought made her feel sick. The brothers had always been part of her life… since they were teenagers. To think of a world without Dante… it was impossible. And Vergil… well, her feelings for Vergil were confusing… a jumbled mess. Now, even more so. The kisses she had shared with V… no, with _Vergil_ , really… it had been months since then, but she couldn’t get them out of her head. Part of her hoped he came back in one piece with Dante, and the other half of her hoped she never saw him again. Seeing him again would just be awkward, especially after that _last_ kiss, in the Qliphoth. She closed her eyes, shutting the memory out just as Nero spoke again. 

“Are you thinking about him? About V?” He looked worried, and that irritated her.

“No,” she lied. “I was thinking about something much earlier than that… I was thinking about when I first met Dante and Vergil.” Nero sat up straight now, turning more so he could see her. 

“When you first met them? So… you knew Vergil too?” 

She nodded, grasping Kalina Ann the _third_ (Dante’s fault, of course) and hefting her over her shoulder. “ _My_ father was a corrupt man,” she said. “Driven by greed, the desire for ultimate power. It blinded him.” Nero followed her out the door of the van and into the midnight streets, still ravaged by the remains of Qliphoth roots. It was eerie and dark. Rain splattered against the cracked concrete as they moved through the dim light of flickering street lamps. “He did his research,” Lady said, “And he knew that Sparda had hidden away power that he might be able to seize for himself… if he had all the right pieces on the chessboard.” 

“It’s always Sparda,” Nero spat, pulling his hood up over his head. Lady smirked a little. 

“Yes. It’s always Sparda. So, my father found his chess pieces. Vergil, your father. He created an alliance under the guise that he was helping Vergil achieve what he had only set out to do for himself. Each thought he was in control. Together they raised the tower of Temen-ni-gru… where Sparda first cast the spell to lock away that power. But Vergil only had one part of the key to break Sparda’s spell and unlock the gate to the demon world.”

“Dante had the other?” Nero asked. 

“Yes. So Dante was the other piece. Vergil lured him to the tower, and they fought. And then there was me. _I_ was the final key to break Sparda’s spell, kin of the priestess who helped Sparda seal the gate thousands of years ago. My father played us all. We fought each other, the three of us. We were weakened, bruised, exhausted… and that’s when he took what he needed to finish his task. The amulets Dante and Vergil had been gifted by their mother, the blood of Sparda’s kin, and _my_ blood.” 

She smiled a little, the city lights behind them, and darkness ahead. She wasn’t sure why she smiled. It wasn’t really a fond memory. But there were parts of it that revealed a truth about Vergil that she knew he tried hard to keep hidden. 

“Your father has a heart, Nero,” she whispered. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. She remembered that day vividly. Handing Dante Kalina Ann, and watching him leave to face her father. She had sunk to the ground in the library, letting her tears flow at last. And then she heard his footsteps, quiet at first, growing louder as he approached. He paused at the door, and turned, pale blue eyes locking with hers. There had been hesitation there. A softness she hadn’t seen before in those moments they last met when he had called her _“foolish.”_ “I was beaten and injured… I had given my weapon to Dante in order to help him defeat my father… but Vergil stopped in the library. He helped me climb to the top of the tower so I could finish what I had sworn to do.” 

Nero was quiet as he followed her through the rain, glancing at street signs as they moved. “That doesn’t excuse the things he’s done.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” Lady whispered. “But even behind all that he’s done… there’s a man who’s hurting. A man who’s looking for acceptance and care. If he is able to come home, Nero, he needs that.” 

“I know.”

Lady could see her breath on the air, the darkness of these back streets reminded her of that night. Vergil had stopped at the bottom of the spiral to the top of the tower. _“Here is where we part ways._ ” He said, nodding once to her and starting on the last ascent alone. 

_“W-wait,”_ she had reached out to him, stumbling a little, her legs still shaking. _“You’ll be alright?”_

He had turned, ice blue eyes glinting with confidence bordering on arrogance. And then he _smirked_ . _“Foolish girl._ ” 

“Hey, Lady, you hearing me?” Nero said, turning suddenly to face her. Lady blinked, suddenly back to the present. “There’s something ahead.” 

She focused, clutching Kalina Ann close on her shoulder. _A portal to hell_ , someone had called this place. And Nero had been hopeful. Too hopeful it seemed, as they rounded the corner and came face to face with a group of feeding Empusas. 

“Hmm… some portal to hell,” Lady smirked. “Looks like it’s just some trash leftover from the Qliphoth.” 

“Well,” Nero said, revving up Red Queen, “Not what we were expecting, but it seems like there’s still work to do.” 

* * *

Vergil had a lot of nightmares…. As Nelo he dreamed about Mundus crushing him, destroying every last shred of hope in his heart… he dreamed of Mundus killing his mother over _and over_ , powerless to stop him… And then as V he had nightmares about Nelo, his cold grip on his wrists. _Try all you might, there’s no escaping the past._ Since then, he had dreamed about Urizen. But this night in the underworld was different… 

_He dreamed of that day, stumbling back towards the manor, blood in his eyes. Every bone in his body hurt, tears rolling down his cheeks as he fought the urge to break into sobs. Something had happened to him, he didn’t understand. He was confused, scared, and… beyond the shattered door of the manor, with her clothes torn and soaked in blood, lay his mother. Panic welled up within him… something the demons had said when they found him…_ “The woman is protecting the other one…” _He was trembling from head to toe, he couldn’t breathe. Wheezing, choking on his own lungs, he fell down on his knees, into blood. She had died… protecting Dante._

 _“M-m-m…” He couldn’t talk, streams of blood-stained tears rolling down his cheeks as he reached out and pressed a hand to her heart. Silence. She really was dead. And Vergil let out a wail, pulling away from her and clutching at his chest. She had died protecting Dante. She had_ died _for Dante. And now Dante was gone… and he was all alone._ Alone… alone… alone… _maybe he always had been._ “The woman is protecting the other one…” _“W-w-what about me, Mama? D-didn’t… didn’t you love me?!” He let out another wail, anger and pain boiling over in his heart. He felt like he was on fire again—in the same way he had when the demons had attacked him. And then he ran, and he didn’t stop running. For more than three decades he ran._ Alone… alone… alone…

When he woke, it was quiet, and it was still dim—as dark as it got in Hell’s “nights.” For the first time in years, thinking about his mother made tears spring up in his eyes. 

“Hah…” Vergil sat up, drawing his knees to his chest, looking out over the expanse of their father’s world. “My, my how the mighty _fall_.” 

“Whazzat?” Dante groaned, rolling over from where he had been sleeping several paces away from his brother. Something Dante said… when Vergil was split in two… came back. Vergil could remember V’s thoughts and memories as clear as day, but Urizen’s were jumbled a little. He had to fish out that moment, Dante’s words a little distorted… confused in his thoughts. _“What you don’t know…”_

“Vergil? Are you awake?” Dante yawned, scratching the back of his head. His hair was a mess from sleep, but his eyes were bright and wide awake even in the starless light of Hell’s night. 

“I am awake,” Vergil replied, “I… had a dream, that’s all.” 

“A bad one?” Dante asked. 

_When are they ever good?_ But instead, Vergil just nodded. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

No, he absolutely did not. Especially not with Dante. But it hurt so bad. He had to say _something_ . Pieces of Urizen’s memory filled his mind… _“What you don’t know_ ….” 

“Dante?” He mumbled, drawing his knees closer. He felt pathetic, like a child. He didn’t dare look his brother in the eye. “Our mother… was looking for me?” 

Dante blinked, “What?” 

“You told Urizen… that Mother was looking for me.” He said, louder this time, glancing up to meet his brother’s eyes. “Is it true?” 

“Of course it is,” Dante said, and he didn’t look away once. He was telling the _truth_. 

“I… always thought that…” Vergil trailed off, brow furrowed. 

“All this time you thought she abandoned you?” Dante whispered, “You know mom would never do that. She _loved_ you. That day… she was _desperate_ to find you.” 

Vergil didn’t respond. Instead, he dropped his head into a shaking hand, hiding his face from his brother. His shoulders trembled, and he let out a shuddering breath, choking on his attempts to hide his tears. 

Dante hesitated, and then stood, crossing the blood-red hellscape to his brother’s side, and kneeling beside him. “All this time….?” He whispered. Vergil didn’t respond, hand tightening against his forehead, jaw tight—refusing to let himself cry. _I will_ _not cry in front of Dante._ But he could hardly contain the emotions welling up within him. All this time he thought he was alone… he thought he was unlovable. 

Dante was quiet for a long moment, and then he let out a soft breath. He didn’t reach out to embrace Vergil, but settled down in his spot beside his twin, letting their shoulders bump more than once as if he were saying that he was there for him, wordlessly. 

At last, he broke the silence: “I’m sorry, Verge,” he whispered.

“What?” 

“I’m sorry...” Dante paused, “I should have done something more back then. Sometimes… sometimes I still have dreams about it…” Vergil didn’t respond, his hands shaking. “I remember… mom. She shoved me into the closet, told me I had to hide, to be quiet. If… if she didn’t come back I’d have to run, by myself. When she went to look for you, I heard her scream…” he shuddered. “I keep thinking… _if only I had been stronger._ Or… _if only I knew how to Trigger then…_ Maybe I could have saved her…” 

“You were only a child,” Vergil said, unable to look his brother in the eye. “I wouldn’t have wished for you to awaken the demon within….like that…” 

Dante grinned, shoving his brother lightly with his elbow, “Oh, instead you’d prefer to wake it by stabbing me yourself, huh? … ah, sorry, bad joke.” 

“No,” Vergil smirked, glancing over at his brother, “You’re right.” 

“Did you just smile?” Dante laughed. 

“Don’t get used to it,” Vergil huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Trust me, I’m _not_.” They were quiet for a moment before Dante said, “We should… talk about going home.” 

Vergil frowned, reaching for the Yamato and holding her tight in his hands. They _assumed_ that they could get back to the human world whenever they wanted with the sword. It was just a matter of putting the theory to test. But… “You say _home_ ,” he said, “But it’s been three decades since I’ve called _any place_ that name.” 

Dante frowned, laying back down to stare at the starless sky. “Well, we were born there, you know? I’ve got my shop, and… clients.”

“You have clients,” Vergil said, raising one brow. 

“Well, okay maybe not regulars but… you know… I’ve got Devil May Cry—”

“You should go home then,” Vergil said, his voice barely a breath. It was growing lighter, the first signs of morning. “I’ll stay here.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“This was our father’s home,” Vergil said calmly. 

“Vergil, you’ve said that before. And last time, you jumped off a cliff. Would you please just talk to me this time?” 

Vergil turned, meeting his brother’s eyes. Dante was sitting up again, earnest, pleading. “There is no place for me in the human world, Dante. You have your shop, your friends… your work. I have nothing. And I have caused nothing but pain for the people you care about. Why would you want me to return with you?”

“The hell are you going on about?” Dante snapped. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my _brother_ , Vergil. You’re one of those people I care about. As for not having a place… of course, you have a place! Stay with me, at _Devil May Cry_. And you can work in the business too! You’d be good at it, you know a lot about demon things, right?” 

“Demon _things_ … sure…” Vergil wasn’t convinced. “I don’t think anyone besides you wants me there, Dante.” 

“Hey, look at me, dumbass,” Dante snapped, punching Vergil hard in the shoulder. Vergil glanced up with a glare. “Do you have any regret… for what you’ve done… for the things that have happened?”

Vergil bit his lip, “A stupid question…Urizen’s actions were fueled by blind avarice and jealousy. My own hatred… my own emotions… my own endless search for power… Even the half of me that pledged to stop him cannot redeem my whole person. I don’t deserve forgiveness.” 

“Don’t say shit like that,” Dante said, punching him again. “You’re already working hard to earn it. I think _that’s_ what makes you human. That’s what makes you… worthy of _forgiveness._ Striving to right your wrongs, and understanding what you’ve done… We all make mistakes. I owe Nero an apology too… I think.” Dante lay down again, putting his hands behind his head, “ _Devil May Cry_ will always be a place you can call home, and I think we should consider going back soon. After all… you did promise Nero you’d return.” 

Vergil’s hands were shaking. He _despised_ that. It made him feel weak. _Devil May Cry…? My home…?_ Why?? Could Dante really have the strength to forgive his brother after all he had done? Vergil was silent for a _long_ moment before he, at last, managed to whisper, “Very well. We can go back today then.” 

“Hmm…” Dante smiled, closing his eyes. “How many days has it been anyways?” 

Vergil laughed, clutching the Yamato tightly and staring out at the horizon of the Underworld. “I haven’t been keeping track.”


	4. Chapter 4

**1 JANUARY ~ 2:23 AM**

“Happy New Year, Kyrie!” Nero whispered, settling into bed next to her. They hadn’t had a moment alone all evening. Now, despite exhaustion pulling him towards sleep, he just wanted a moment with her to himself. They had invited everyone over for dinner and for champagne at midnight. It had been a mistake, because of _course_ the party lasted way past the midnight countdown. Nero had been afraid his devil hunter friends would be too much for Kyrie, but she had been as sweet and as kind as she was to everyone: offering everyone drinks and more food than they could eat. He supposed by now maybe Kyrie was used to the rowdy crowd… after all, Nero could be put in the same group. 

“Happy New Year,” Kyrie smiled, she reached out and cupped his cheek, drawing him close and pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. She furrowed her brow, her nose wrinkling a little. _Adorable_. “I’m sorry about what Trish said, I know you didn’t want to think about your father and uncle tonight.” 

Trish had laughed at the toast, _“And Happy New Year to those idiots still in the underworld.”_ It had been a genuine comment, but it was still a reminder that Nero didn’t need. He felt like he had somehow failed himself and the two of them for not finding a way to bring them back. 

"I know what you're thinking," Kyrie said, gently running her fingers through his hair. Nero let out a sigh, allowing himself to close his eyes and lean into her touch. "You're thinking that you're not trying hard enough, that you're not working hard enough, and that you're not good enough." She paused sitting up so she could lean closer to him, their noses brushing, "But none of that is true, Nero. You are the strongest person I know. You're doing wonderfully. You know that deep in your heart." She pressed a hand to his chest. "Trust yourself." 

"Isn't it enough to know that _you_ have faith in me?" He asked. She shook her head. 

"It's good to have people supporting you, Nero, but you have to have faith in yourself. You're strong, you always have been. I think that also applies to your Uncle and Father, doesn't it? You'll all get through this, I know you will. I have faith." She clasped his hand in hers, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. Nero smiled, leaning over to kiss her. 

"Thank you, Kyrie. You always know what to say." 

"I'm glad," she murmured, nuzzling closer to him as he lay back against his pillows. "I always want to be here for you, Nero…" she rested her hand against his chest, letting out a soft sigh, "I love you."

He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to that, those words in her soft voice, all for him…. "I love you too." He murmured, gently pulling her close, and letting sleep overtake him.

* * *

_He dreamed he was standing on a white expanse stretching as far as he could see. The clouds above were a rolling red, like blood, and the sun was dark… an eclipse? He shuddered, taking a step forward, his footsteps echoing across the vast space, his breath loud and shaky. Though the expanse seemed endless, he could hear voices, soft… whispering… and as he moved across the flat ground the voices got louder and figures began to take shape before him. His father and his uncle stood side by side in the void… his father holding out the Yamato, and he sliced into the air, making the expanse part… revealing darkness beyond._

_“See? Nothing to it.” Dante laughed._

_“Dante!” Nero shouted, reaching out towards them. “Take me with you this time!”_

_Dante turned, his eyes meeting his nephews. He smiled a little. “You’re already there, kid. We’re just following you.”_

When Nero woke up, he knew it had been just a dream, but he felt better. He felt that maybe… maybe he _would_ see Dante and Vergil again. Perhaps he would see them again _soon_. 

* * *

**29 JANUARY ~ 11:25 PM**

_A dumb routine…_ Lady leaned back against Dante's desk, surveying his little shop. She had dusted and swept and stacked the mail in a drawer in his desk. _A dumb routine, too sentimental._

Now she waited, like she always did, a small glass of whiskey in one hand and the weight of her past in the other. She had so many regrets… she should have at least gone to the top of the Qliphoth with Nero and Dante and V on that day. They would have insisted that she stay behind but damn she could be stubborn and persistent. She wished that she could have looked Vergil in the eyes just once, to see him again. Maybe… maybe if she had seen him once more these feelings… this turmoil within her… maybe it wouldn't be like this. She let out a sigh through her teeth and took another sip of whiskey. 

His eyes. Her hand shook and she steadied it by pacing back and forth across the office. She had first seen his eyes in Temen-ni-gru. _Vergil._ That demon who had _forced her father's hand_ , right? She had come at him with the fury of a storm, raising Kalina Ann to strike him. He was as good as dead in her mind. But he had met her with equal force, their eyes locked. _"Is that what you think?"_ Cool, calculating…. _Honest_ . _"Foolish girl."_

Foolish girl. Yes, maybe that's exactly what she was now… waiting for a man who might not return at all. Maybe she was a fool, for sitting here and hoping that… the kisses he had given her as V had been more than just a game V had been playing. _What kind of game would V play that involved kissing me?_ She'd ask herself. She had no answer… but she liked to imagine that maybe, just maybe, he had kissed her… that _Vergil_ had kissed her just because he wanted to. 

* * *

**15 JUNE ~ 12:36 PM**

_"Well, looks like no one’s worse for wear," Lady said, offering Dante a nod. "I’m just gonna double-check." She met V and Trish, reaching out and clasping V's hand. "Hey, are you alright, you're…"_

_"I just need to sit for a moment," he groaned. "Maybe… some water…"_

_"Come to the van," she whispered, letting him lean on her. He looked hurt… practically as if he were crumbling._

_“Woah, woah. Hey.” Dante frowned, pointing at V, “Where did that garbage god go? What’s Urizen after?”_

_V groaned, leaning against Lady’s shoulder, “He’s at the top of the Qliphoth.”_

_Dante glanced up but Trish shook her head, crossing her arms, “It's the other way around, Dante. This is the lowest level of the Qliphoth’s upper echelon…”_

_“Come on. Let them figure it out,” Lady said, gently leading V towards the van. She helped him up the step into the vehicle, letting him drop back onto the couch. He let out a rasping breath as she grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to him. He drank quickly, tilting his head back, and letting out a sigh when he'd finished, still trying to catch his breath._

_"Are you… alright?" Lady whispered._

_"Yes," he breathed, his voice hoarse, "for now. The others..."_

_She glanced out to where she could see Dante talking to Nico and Trish. The gunsmith was handing Dante something… a hat? She looked excited. "I think they're alright," Lady said, "besides…" she shifted in her seat a little. "I wanted to see you again."_

_It was awkward to admit that. V studied her, his green eyes tracing over her, and settling on her lips. "You know I have to go to Urizen?" He whispered._

_"Yes."_

_He rose to his feet, knees shaking. His hand gripped his cane so tight his knuckles were white, but there was desire like fire in his green eyes. "Say it again… say… what you wanted."_

_He was close now, leaning towards her. She focused on his eyes, "I wanted to see you again."_

_V let out a soft sigh, as if he couldn't believe it, and then with his free hand he reached out and cupped her cheek, drawing her to his lips in a desperate kiss. His tongue traced over her lower lip as he pushed her back against the table, hips pressed against hips. He forgot his cane, letting it topple to the floor as he supported himself by pressing a hand against the table behind her. He kissed her like there would be no tomorrow, and maybe there wouldn’t be… but there was a desperation in his touch, in the way his mouth moved over hers, that she hadn’t felt before._

_“I’ve allowed myself to think about you too often,” he whispered, pulling away. “You are the only distraction that I’ve let slip inside my mind.” He leaned closer, lips brushing hers._

_“A good distraction, or a bad one?” she murmured._

_He smirked, “A dangerous one.” But he kissed her again anyways, hand reaching out to cup her cheek, thumb brushing against her chin. And he kissed her again, breathless, teeth grazing her bottom lip. He groaned, taking in a shaking breath. “If only… if only I had more time.”_

_She could hear Nero shout, just outside the van, “Dante! I’m gonna go too!”_

_V gave her a look that she knew well enough. “You have to go,” she whispered. He nodded once, closing his green eyes to kiss her just one last time, pressing all his hope, all his desire into that kiss, and then he reached to lift his cane from the ground and stumbled towards the front of the van. Dante and Nero were arguing outside._

_“Let him go, Dante,” V groaned. “Time is a luxury… we can no longer afford. We must chase after him, post-haste.”_

_Lady watched from where she stood in the doorway of the van as Dante’s eyes flicked between Nero and V. “Why? Does this mean you’re going too?”_

_“I,” V said, leaning against his cane, “have a duty to see this through.”_

_“Well, that’s all you have to say, Mr. Poetry,” Dante nodded. “I’m gonna go my way, you guys can go yours. Let’s just say that’s best for the cause.” He turned towards the cliff edge and Nero followed suit. Lady hopped from the van, following V._

_“V,” she said, “When you come back, we’ll finish where we left off…?” It was more of a question than a statement. Everything V had said and done made her feel like… maybe he had no intention of returning, and that scared her. V turned, green eyes meeting her sea green and red. He smiled, but it was forced, and there was so much pain exuding from his eyes, it was like he was being tortured. His lips twitched, he clutched his cane. And the familiarity of his smile hit her like a ton of bricks with two soft words._

_“Foolish girl.” And then he jumped and was gone._


	5. Chapter 5

**30 JANUARY ~ 1:32 AM**

Lady flicked off the shop light and stepped outside, turning to lock the door with a sigh. It would be Trish’s turn to check up on the shop next. So Lady crouched down to leave the key under the lip of the doorway when an odd sound made her pause. The red glow of the  _ Devil May Cry _ sign above the doorstep flickered on and off, on and off. A streetlamp just to the left followed the same pattern, before the bulb burst with a pop, draping the street in darkness.

The door was suddenly illuminated with a flickering blue glow. Lady spun around to see the edges of a portal widening, the deep blue of the Yamato’s cuts flickering with energy. She knew what was happening before she even saw the figures emerging from within. Her heart skipped a beat, reaching out to steady herself against the wall of the shop. 

Vergil and Dante. They both looked dirty, rugged. Their hair was grown out—both of them, Dante’s tied back with a strip of cloth in a long ponytail, Vergil’s almost the length Dante’s had been when she had last seen him, but he still tried to keep it brushed back, with some difficulty. Both of them had scruff. Their clothes were torn and dirty, and they looked exhausted. 

“Hey!” Dante laughed, clapping his brother on the back much to Vergil’s chagrin, “You got us pretty close! Nice job!” 

“I told you I hadn’t forgotten its location,” Vergil snapped, but then he trailed off, noticing Dante had caught sight of Lady on the steps. Both brothers’ eyes landed on the huntress. She was bewildered, tired, and tears pricked the corner of her eyes. 

“Mary—” Vergil whispered. 

Before either of them could say anything else, Lady dashed down the steps and pulled them both into a tight hug. So relieved, not just for their sake but for everyone’s sake… all the waiting and worrying was over at last… the brothers were back. “I’m glad you’re both back.” Both of the men tensed in her embrace and she quickly pulled away, trying to hide the tears that had inexplicably sprung up in her eyes. “Y-you know,” she laughed a little, “I’m having deja vu.” Dante laughed out loud, Vergil’s intense gaze didn’t falter. There was something there, behind his cool eyes, that made Lady’s heart quicken. But she set those thoughts aside. She had never been more relieved to see the two of them safe. 

“Yeah, you could say this is pretty familiar,” Dante grinned. All those years ago, at the foot of Temen-ni-gru, she had told Dante that it was alright to cry—to mourn for a loved one. And now, here the three of them stood once more like they had facing Lady’s father in the tower at the very beginning. Now, Vergil was alive… Vergil was  _ home _ . It was like the pieces were fitting together at last. Brother lost, brother found. And the three of them here… did all stories end at the beginning? 

“Come on, let's get inside,” Lady said, hopping up the steps and crouching to grab the key from its hiding place. She unlocked the door with shaking hands, and she didn’t have to gesture for Dante and Vergil to follow. 

“How long were we away?” Vergil asked as they entered the dark shop and Lady flicked on the lights.

Lady froze, turning to face the brothers, and then offering them a glare before punching them both solidly in the shoulder. 

Dante spluttered, “Hey—!” 

“It’s been almost eight months,  _ idiots! _ ” They were quiet for a moment before Vergil turned to Dante, his lips twitching with a smirk. 

“I  _ win _ , Dante,” he said, his voice bordering on ecstatic. “I  _ win _ .” 

“W-what!” Lady gasped, “Do you two know how worried everyone's been? And you  _ really _ bet on how long you were gone?!” 

“No!” Dante scoffed, “I don’t know what he’s talking about.” 

Vergil’s smirk dropped away to his regular stoic expression, and instead of saying anything, he swiftly and wordlessly slammed the sheathed Yamato against Dante’s hip. 

“OW!” Dante yowled, stumbling to the side, turning towards his brother with teeth bared. “What the hell was that for?”

“You,” Vergil said, gesturing at Dante, “Owe me.” 

“Fine. Christ, Vergil, you win.” 

Lady raised a brow, crossing her arms as Vergil smiled again, this time it was less of a smirk and more genuine. She had never seen them act this way before—not the fighting… it was something beyond fighting. Like they were actually brothers. And… Vergil’s smile… Their eyes met again and Lady’s heart skipped a beat. He was  _ smiling.  _ And it was warm, and genuine. She had never seen him look happy like this. Her eyes moved away from his, and down to his lips, and a thought rose in her mind that made her feel warm all over.  _ Those lips…  _ A memory surfaced, she remembered how desperate V had been, kissing her in the van, and her cheeks grew hot.  _ Dammit, Lady, get a hold of yourself.  _ She had to channel the frustration somewhere. 

“I can't believe either of you. You're both acting like school children and everyone's been worried sick about you,” She snapped. 

Dante blinked, “Worried?” 

“Yeah!” She said, “Worried! And we’ve all been out here working our asses off while you two have been… away doing who knows what!” 

“Well—”

“All I can say is you two better be helping from here on out, Red Grave is still a mess thanks to your science project,” she jabbed her finger at Vergil.

“ _ Urizen’s _ science project,” Dante corrected, with narrowed eyes. Vergil didn’t respond, his hand tight on the Yamato. Maybe she shouldn’t have said  _ that…  _ after all, they had all already agreed that what Urizen did, Vergil was not responsible for. Dante relaxed a little and dropped back into his chair at his desk. “Well, I think we’re here to stay, right Verge?  _ Devil May Cry _ is open for business.” 

“Good,” Lady nodded. She didn't want to stay another moment. Between the tension she felt around Vergil and the nonchalance in Dante's voice, she was afraid she might combust.“I’m heading out. There’s work to be done tomorrow and I need sleep. Both of you better call Nero tomorrow morning. If you don’t, I’ll know. The kid’s been worried sick over both of you.” 

Vergil glanced up, his expression almost tortured. “He… has?”

“Yeah. So don’t either of you pull a stunt like that ever again.” Lady warned. She turned, opening the door to leave, before pausing and glancing back into the shop. “And go get clean. You both smell like Qliphoth.” 

Lady leaned back against the front door of  _ Devil May Cry _ taking in a deep breath. What in the world was all of that? Seeing the twins back had made her so happy… something she wasn’t expecting at all. But there was something different about the emotion that stirred when she looked into Vergil’s eyes. She took a deep breath of the cool early morning air, and then hurried on her way home. Maybe she would get a few hours of sleep before she had to get to work in the morning. 

It was a short walk to her apartment from the shop. She had walked there from home because it was a nice night, but now—with how tired and emotional she was—she was regretting her earlier decision. She was just rounding the corner of her street when she realized something and came to a halt under a street lamp, her heart skipping a beat. 

Vergil was… V. Or, rather, V was half of Vergil. Did Vergil remember anything from his time as V? Did that mean… She felt her face go hot.  _ Does he remember those… moments we shared?  _ She felt panic build in her middle. If he remembered, they had to talk. But how in the world would she bring something like that up to him?  _ “Hey, do you remember when V and I kissed?”  _ Just thinking about it made her feel dizzy with embarrassment. Or maybe the dizziness was from lack of sleep. She climbed the stairs to her apartment. With all the thoughts spinning through her mind, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get any sleep before she had to wake and get back to work. 

* * *

Vergil took in a deep breath, leaning over the porcelain sink in Dante’s small downstairs bathroom. His dirty coat and vest had been discarded, gloves torn off, boots left outside by Dante’s desk. Folded and set neatly on the shelf by the door were a towel and some of Dante’s pajamas, which he wasn’t particularly looking forward to wearing. Though they looked comfortable and clean, they had grease stains from pizza, and the deep red of the pants was  _ not _ Vergil’s favorite color. Plus, as he glanced at himself in the mirror above the bathroom sink, taking a step back to see his waist and hips, he realized that Dante’s clothes would probably be too big. 

Though he was strong, and he could see his strength in the defined muscles of his arms, shoulders, and chest… he was  _ thin _ . He pressed his hand against his side, feeling his ribs just beneath his skin. In the mirror, the faint, jagged scars tracing across his chest were a reminder of  _ why  _ he was so malnourished.  _ Mundus.  _

Seeing those scars, it seemed as though he could see himself change. He saw himself with  _ disgust _ , in the mirror. He saw  _ Nelo Angelo _ . His breath became ragged with panic, nausea bubbling within him as he struggled to breathe. He lurched forward, clutching the edge of the sink and leaning over the porcelain, lungs heaving for air, vision blurred. 

He gritted his teeth and bit his lip until he tasted blood,  _ Pull yourself together! You… are a son of Sparda!  _ He didn’t realize how tight his grip was on the sink until he heard a  _ CRACK _ . Pulled back to reality by the sound, he glanced down to see a long crack in the porcelain… running down from where his left hand was placed. He carefully moved away from the sink, relieved to see that it hadn’t cracked all the way through, and prayed that Dante wouldn’t notice later, turning his attention, at last, to the shower. 

_ Hot.  _ He turned the handle marked  _ H _ , waited for the water to warm, and stepped in, letting the steaming water wash away the grime, the stench, and the pain of the Qliphoth. And somehow, as he massaged Dante’s shampoo into his hair—was that strawberry-scented? Unbelievable.—his thoughts fell on Mary. 

He had not expected to see her so soon after returning home. He had asked Dante if he was close to Mary, and Dante had scoffed.  _ “If by ‘close’ you mean that she wants to bleed me dry. Always coming around, asking me to pay what I owe…”  _ Vergil had been relieved, and he still wasn’t sure he understood why. But, if he closed his eyes, he could see her smile, the teasing light in her eyes. He could still feel the way she held him close. He could still taste that kiss she shared with V, desperation building within him, her mouth hot against his. She had yanked him closer, her hips pressed against his… he could still feel it. He wondered… if they had had more time… what she would have done next… what he would have done… 

Vergil scoffed, spinning around under the shower’s hot stream, and yanking the knob marked  _ C _ all the way on, shutting off the hot water simultaneously.  _ No time to think about things like that now.  _ Besides, though he had it in his memories, Mary had shared that kiss with V—not Vergil. He let the cold water cascade over him until he was shivering, and then he shut it off, throwing the shower curtain aside and reaching for his towel. 

He had been right in assuming Dante’s pants wouldn’t fit. Luckily the sweats had a drawstring, and he tied it tight so they wouldn’t fall off his hips. _Since I’m staying,_ _I’ll have to buy myself some clothes._ He met his own eyes in the mirror, the thought finally settling in his heart. _Staying._ After all, Dante _had_ said when they were in the underworld that Vergil could always call _Devil May Cry_ his home. “So I really am staying,” he mumbled to his gaunt reflection. 

While they were in the underworld he had considered playing along with Dante for a bit and then leaving… not to do anything in particular. It just felt like his brother didn’t deserve the burden Vergil would surely place on his shoulders. But, there was something about finally being close with Dante that put him at ease. Like they were catching up at last, after everything they had been through.  _ Yes.  _ He thought, pulling the pizza-grease-stained t-shirt over his head.  _ I’ll stay.  _

Vergil stepped out of the bathroom to find his younger brother at his desk again—cleaned up, shirtless and in his own pair of sweats, his feet kicked up on the desk. “Hey,” he said. He had shaved, and cut off a portion of his hair, leaving the cut ragged and uneven—but when was Dante’s hair ever neat, really? Vergil had foregone cutting his own hair for that exact reason—though the length was enough that it was hard to keep it brushed back the way he liked. He had shaved though, and it felt good and clean… better than it had before. 

“What time is it?” Vergil frowned, running his hand over his face, taking in a deep sigh. 

“Four.” Dante replied, “You should get some rest, we’re going to have to talk to Nero tomorrow…. Er… today.” 

“Right,” Vergil nodded, anxiety gnawing at his middle.  _ Nero.  _ Mary had said that Nero had been worried about both of them. Was that really true? 

“You can take my bed, Verge. I always sleep on the couch anyway.” Dante shrugged. 

Vergil nodded again, hoping that maybe he wouldn’t be too anxious to sleep. He trudged upstairs, stepping into Dante’s small bedroom, glanced over the blankets and sheets to find, much to his relief that they were clean—he had expected his brother would have had crumbs in the sheets. 

Without a second thought, Vergil collapsed onto the mattress, exhaustion overtaking him quickly, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 


	6. Chapter 6

**30 JANUARY ~ 10:14 AM**

“Hey, hey,” Nico leaned out from under the van, “Hand me that wrench, will ya?” Nero rolled his eyes but crouched down next to the  _ artisan _ , handing her the tool. 

“You know, you wouldn’t have to be down there if you didn’t run over every demon in sight…” 

“Hey,” Nico snapped, coming up from under the car, and pulling a cigarette and lighter from her pocket as she stood up straight. She handed Nero the wrench and flicked on the lighter with a huff.“I don’t see  _ you _ volunteering to drive.” She had just lit the cigarette in her mouth when she jumped, eyes widening, “Sweet Jesus!” 

Nero spun around just in time to see the familiar edges of a portal opening wide with a hum and a deep blue glow.  _ The Yamato!  _ He felt like he was frozen where he stood by the hood of the van, the metal wrench tumbled out of his hands and clattered against the concrete floor as two familiar figures stepped through the portal and straight into his garage. 

“A warning would be nice next time,” Nico said, hand shaking as she took the cigarette from her mouth and tapped the ash away. 

“You…” Nero trailed off, his eyes tracing over the grinning figure of Dante— _ my uncle _ , he had to remind himself—and the stoic expression of his father, Vergil. The two were dressed in casual clothes—though for Vergil they were a little baggy, and Nero realized that his father must have borrowed some of Dante’s clothing. They did look different since the last time Nero had seen them. Dante’s hair was surprisingly relatively the same, but his facial hair had been trimmed. Vergil’s hair was longer than it had been before and almost refused to stay back the way he liked it. It was quiet for a long moment. 

“Well,” Dante said, raising his arms. “We’re back!” 

Before Nero even knew what he was doing he was swinging his fists and punching both of them—one after the other—solidly across the face. Dante stumbled back against the wall of the garage. 

“What the hell, kid!” 

Vergil was silent, pressing a hand to his face where his son’s knuckles had struck him. For the first time since that day on the Qliphoth Nero looked into his father’s eyes. His expression was not what he had been expecting. That day, the way Vergil had looked at Dante, Nero had only seen arrogance in his eyes.  _ “If I beat Nero, then by default, I beat you. Agreed, Dante?”  _ But now, looking into his father’s eyes, he saw calm. His emotions unreadable. But there was an imperceptible tremble in the hand that held tight to the Yamato. 

“Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for you both?” He whispered, turning away from them and busying his hands with cleaning up the tools he and Nico had been using. In front of him, Nico leaned back against the van taking another drag of her cigarette. He could see the excitement in her eyes, which made his face hot. She was already loving this—the drama. He  _ hated _ that. 

“Well, uh…” Dante scratched the back of his head, shoving his free hand into his pocket. “Lady told us last night it had been eight months?”

“You saw Lady last night?!” Nero spun around, wrench tight in his right hand. “How long have you two assholes been back?!” 

“We only just arrived last night,” Vergil whispered, “Mar—er…  _ Lady _ happened to be at the shop when we arrived.” 

“Relax, kid,” Dante raised his hands as if telling Nero to calm down. “We know you were worried about us but—” 

“Worried? About you two?” Nero scoffed, “Not on your life!” 

Nico snorted from where she leaned against the van, and Nero offered her a withering glare, before letting out a sigh of defeat and turning towards his family. “But.. I  _ am _ glad you’re back.” 

Before Vergil and Dante could say anything else, Nero straightened. “Why don’t you two come in. Kyrie’s making brunch and she always makes way too much. There’ll be enough for everyone if… you want to stay.” 

Vergil looked nervous, but he glanced over at Dante, and the devil hunter offered Nero a wide grin. “Kyrie’s cooking? Hell yeah, we’ll stay.” 

“Alright,” Nero nodded, setting the last tool on a shelf by the van. “Let me go tell Kyrie. Uh…” He glanced back towards Nico. “I’ll come back to get you all.” He marched towards the garage door, emotions overwhelming him. He felt numb… he wanted to scream, but he wasn’t sure what emotion rose above all the others. Anger? Happiness? He was so glad Dante and Vergil—the only blood relations he had—he was so glad they were alright. But he was irritated they had been gone for so long. And… how did he act around them? How was he  _ supposed  _ to act around them?! Was he supposed to be angry? Or happy? How was he supposed to act normal around these two? 

And then, beneath the anger and the relief, there was an ache in his heart… pain. He paused in the doorway to the house, gripping the handle of the door tight with his right hand. The things Dante had said to him back then, even if it was to protect him. And the things Vergil had  _ done _ … He glanced back at them Dante was greeting Nico again, but Vergil was looking at Nero. Their eyes met. So many things unsaid. Nero bit his lip, glancing away quickly.  _ My father. How messed up is that?  _ The guy who had stolen his arm… the guy who had split himself in two. But somehow, in those steel-blue eyes—the same as Dante’s—Nero saw  _ pain _ , just like his own. 

Time. He thought to himself.  _ Time. We only need time.  _

He stepped into the house, just as Nico was saying, “So. You must be Nero’s deadbeat dad, huh?” Nero groaned internally, shutting the door on whatever disaster conversation was about to occur. He moved through the hall into the kitchen where another sort of disaster was occurring. 

“Nero!” Carlo glanced up from where he leaned against the counter. “We’re making pancakes!” 

“Nice job,” Nero grinned, tousling the kid’s hair. Kyrie was hovering over the stove, helping as needed. “Hey, Kyrie, can I… talk to you?” 

“You know I can’t leave the children with the stove, Nero,” she said, but she stepped aside a bit, watching the boys as they watched the pancakes closely. “What’s wrong?” She whispered, gently taking his hand. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, “It’s just… uh…” he glanced over at the boys. “Vergil and Dante are back.” 

“Oh!  _ Oh! _ That’s wonderful news, Nero!” Kyrie gently squeezed his hand. 

“Hey, I think they’re ready to flip!” Julio said. 

“Yeah, ready to flip!” Kyle repeated. 

“Alright, I’m coming!” Kyrie made her way back to the stove to help direct the boys in flipping the pancakes. 

“Kyrie, they’re… actually  _ here  _ here.” Nero said. Kyrie’s eyes widened and then she offered Nero a smile. 

“Invite them in for brunch, Nero. They’re probably very hungry! And I’ll be glad to… well… it’ll be nice to meet him.” 

By  _ him _ he knew Kyrie was referring to his father. He nodded. 

“Alright, boys, can you set the table for two more? We’re going to have some guests.” 

“I got it!” Carlo jumped down from his stool and rushed to grab extra plates and silverware. 

Nero turned to go back to the garage. He still felt… overwhelmed by his emotions, and he could see in the way Kyrie glanced over at him that she could tell he was reeling. She flipped the last pancake and moved across the room to wrap her arms around Nero and pull him into a tight hug. “Things will take some getting used to,” she whispered. “But I have no doubt that, with time, things will get better.” 

“Thank you, Kyrie.” Nero smiled, he tilted his head and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. 

“Ew!” Julio groaned, covering his eyes. Nero laughed, shaking his head, kissing Kyrie’s forehead and then pulling away to return to the garage. 

* * *

“So. You must be Nero’s deadbeat dad, huh?” 

Vergil winced. As annoyingly painful as the words were, he knew it was true. He was about to confirm what the girl had said when Dante let out an exasperated sigh and set his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “He has a name. It’s Vergil.” 

“Vergil,” Nico began again, putting out her cigarette. “Nicoletta Goldstein.” She held out her hand. 

“I know,” Vergil whispered, “I remember.” But he didn’t take her hand. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Nico mused, awkwardly putting her hand into her pocket and retrieving another cigarette. “You were V, huh?” 

Vergil hesitated. “Yes. That’s one way to say it.” He didn’t really want to think of all the memories he had from V. All the things V got to experience that Vergil never did and never would again. It was almost as if V had had …  _ friends? _ He had even talked to Nero… told Nero things that Vergil would have never admitted to anyone.  _ “...I wanted to be protected and loved…”  _ And then there was Mary. Vergil glanced down at his hands, balling them into fists.  _ Maybe it would have been better to stay as V.  _ Though he knew it would have been impossible…

“Hey… Verge?” Dante rested his hand on Vergil’s shoulder, startling the older brother out of his thoughts. “You okay, there? We lost you for a second.” 

“Yes,” Vergil whispered. “I’m… fine.” He shrugged off Dante’s hand. “Don’t touch me.” 

The door of the garage swung open, and Nero stepped out. “Hey, Kyrie and the boys are just finishing brunch. Why don’t you all come in and sit down?”

“Hell yeah,” Dante grinned, shoving his hands in his pocket and following Nico up the steps. Vergil followed hesitantly. 

“...Boys?” 

“I’ll introduce you,” Nero said, holding open the door for everyone as they came in. 

Dante turned around, “They’re like Nero and Kyrie’s kids.”

“Well, not exactly,” Nero smiled, “Kyrie and I took them in when they had nowhere else to go.” Nero gestured for them to follow him and he led them down the short hall and into the kitchen and dining room. So this was Nero’s house. It was small, though not at small as Dante’s shop, Vergil thought. Surely it had more rooms than Dante’s shop. There were, after all, three young boys sitting at the table and eagerly awaiting their breakfast. Vergil couldn’t even imagine having them all in a small two-bedroom space. Then again, the house hadn’t looked very big from the outside. There was a woman in the dining room too, setting a platter of hashbrowns and scrambled eggs on the table.  _ This must be Nero’s woman.  _ Dante had said her name but Vergil couldn’t remember. 

“Hey, Kyrie. Hey, boys.” Dante said, plopping down in a seat beside one of the children. He seemed so comfortable with them. It made a very familiar emotion rise in Vergil’s core, like hot lead burning away his middle.  _ Envy _ . 

“Good morning!” Kyrie said. 

“Dante!” One of the boys gasped, “Are there still demons in Red Grave? Are you still fighting them off?!” He looked excited, like he was fishing for a good story. Vergil didn’t move to sit. 

“Here, Vergil,” Nero said, “You can sit between Dante and I… Ah… Kyrie…” Nero brushed his thumb against the tip of his nose and then shrugged his shoulders back before gesturing to Vergil nervously, “This is my fa… This is...my… This is Vergil.” He finished lamely. 

The woman, Kyrie, offered Vergil a sweet and genuine smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “We’re glad to have you here. Why don’t you sit down and eat something? Let me grab the syrup and I’ll sit with you all.” 

The table was crowded. The boys were already shoveling food down while Dante told them some sort of dramatized version of him fighting one demon or another. Nico was eating as fast as she could. Nero gave her a look and she shrugged her shoulders. “Whaaat? I have things to get back to. I’m half-way through that new Devil Breaker for you!” 

“Boys,” Nero said as Vergil sat down. “This is Vergil. He’s Dante’s brother.” 

“Oh, cool! So you must have some good stories too?” One said, bite of pancake still in his mouth. 

“Julio,” Nero groaned, “Chew and swallow before you talk.” He glanced over at Vergil, “That one’s Julio. And then there’s Kyle and Carlo.” Then he noticed Vergil’s plate, “Hey, why don’t you get some food?” 

Vergil glanced over at Dante’s plate. He had already stacked it high with scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, and pancakes with butter. Kyrie had brought back the syrup and Dante was just pouring it over his whole plate.  _ Does that taste good?  _ It had been years since Vergil had tried food like this, let alone a sit-down meal with...other people. He carefully served himself some eggs and hashbrowns and hesitated before lifting his fork. His stomach was growling. But, what did these things even taste like? He couldn’t remember. 

He skewered some eggs and hashbrown with his fork and took a bite. The flavor was overwhelming. He closed his eyes, chewing thoughtfully. He had never tasted anything so good.  _ So… this is what scrambled eggs and hashbrowns taste like.  _ A memory was brought to mind. He and Dante were sitting at a little table by the garden window. Their mother was setting plates in front of them, eggs and toast for breakfast. She pressed a kiss to both their foreheads.  _ “I’ll pour you some orange juice. Eat all your food, and then you can go out to play _ .” Vergil swallowed, and involuntary tears stung at the corners of his eyes. 

“...I-is it alright?!” Kyrie asked from where she sat across from him. “Do you not like it?” 

“No, it’s exceptional,” Vergil said, skewering another bite, but he paused, glancing up to see Nero and Dante and Kyrie all looking rather concerned. “Well, it’s just that… I haven’t had a meal in many, many years.” A quiet fell over the table besides the three young boys’ incessant chattering. Vergil fiddled with his fork a little. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. He glanced up at Kyrie, nodding once, “My sincerest thanks, for the meal.” He hesitated, before forcing himself to add, “It’s value to me is… more than you can know.” 

There were tears in the woman’s eyes. Vergil didn’t understand why, but he had a sick feeling in his gut. Did they pity him? He didn’t want their pity—

“You’re welcome,” Kyrie said, a gentle smile on her lips, “And please, come eat with us any time you’d like.” 

* * *

Nero took in a deep breath, “Hey, thanks for coming, both of you. Guess we’ll probably be seeing each other some more while we finish cleaning up this mess, huh?” 

Dante nodded, “Thanks for having us! Thanks for brunch.” But Vergil was already walking out into the driveway. The younger of the twin brothers let out an exasperated sigh and quickly followed his brother. 

“Feel free to come back any time!” Kyrie said from the door to the house. Nero watched as Dante leaned in and murmured something to Vergil. 

“Well, hurry up!” Vergil snapped. “I won’t wait for you forever, Dante.” 

The younger of the twins nodded and dashed back to where Nero stood in the garage. “Hey, listen, kid.” He said, taking a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you but… with breakfast there wasn’t really much of a chance.” 

“What’s wrong?” Nero frowned, crossing his arms. “Another job? Don’t tell me you two are going away again—”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Dante groaned. “I uh… I wanted to apologize.” He grimaced. “For not telling you the truth about Vergil earlier, even before the Qliphoth.” There was a moment of stunned silence. Nero had often thought that once Dante got home it would be everything back to normal, no apologies… his uncle would act like nothing had even happened. 

“I… wasn’t expecting…” he wasn’t sure what to say. 

“It’s alright,” Dante sighed, “I knew you weren’t. Vergil and I talked a lot while we were gone. I decided I wanted to apologize before we came back.” 

“...Thank you,” Nero finally managed to say. 

“Dante!” Vergil said, irritation on the edge of his voice. 

“Coming.” Dante rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pocket and casually making his way back out the garage where Vergil held the Yamato at the ready. They vanished as quickly as they had come. Nero watched them go, taking in a deep breath as soon as the portal had slipped away into nothingness. He still wasn’t sure how he was feeling. Kyrie moved down the steps from the door into the house and wrapped her arms around Nero. He gently slipped his arm over her shoulder and held her close. 

“What was that about?” 

“He apologized,” Nero whispered. “For… keeping the secret from me…” 

“I’m glad.”

“He’s changed. I thought maybe… Vergil would be the one who needed that. But…” He glanced down at Kyrie, “Maybe we all do.”

Kyrie frowned, “That’s the other thing. Your father. What he said at the table.” 

“Oh,” Nero nodded. “Yeah.”

“He hasn’t had a meal in years? What did he mean?”

“I don’t know.” And he realized that he knew  _ very little  _ about Vergil… except for what Lady, Trish, and V had told him.  _ V…  _ “When V was with us he told me something, though. That he only ever wanted to be protected and loved.” 

Kyrie nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Kyrie said, resting her head against Nero’s chest. “We’ll protect and love him. Next time, let’s invite them over for dinner.” 

Nero smiled, holding Kyrie close. She was right, she always was. He knew from experience that love—in any of its forms—changed everything. 

* * *

_ “Vergil….”  _

_ The voice was barely a whisper, pulling him towards the end of darkness.  _

_ “Vergil…Do you really think anyone could ever love you?”  _

_ He dropped down from the void of black into a room made of Qliphoth roots, the vines came to life, twisting around his limbs, tightening… tightening… thorns digging into his skin.  _

_ “Do you really think anyone could ever love you…?”  _

_ “S-stop—” Vergil choked. A shadow loomed from beyond the Qliphoth roots, and the figure of Urizen appeared. Vergil struggled against his bindings, but he couldn’t escape. The roots only grew tighter.  _

_ “Weak.” Urizen breathed, “You are  _ weak _. Pathetic.” He reached out with a hand and gripped Vergil tight, two of his fingers tightening around the man’s neck. And Vergil saw, in the demon’s eyes,  _ Mundus. _ Hatred, pure hatred. He felt bile rise in his throat, his stomach twisting into knots.  _ I became… like  _ him _ … The monster who…  _ “You… are nothing more than scum.” Urizen hissed, “Useless. Refuse, to be discarded.”  _

_ “You… are not whole…” Vergil choked.  _

_ Urizen stepped back. “No… it is  _ you _ who are not whole…” There was a glint in his eyes, “Cursed… the moment you were brought into this world.”  _

_ The world faded to black. The vines tightened, digging into him. He let out a ragged breath. That familiar voice… “Submit, son of Sparda. Submit.”  _

Vergil shot out of sleep nausea rolling over him in waves, the smell of blood still pervading his senses. He lurched out of bed, knocking over the lamp at Dante’s bedside table. It shattered on the ground with a  _ crash _ , but he barely noticed the shards as he stumbled out of bed, leaning against the wall for support.  _ Breathe, Vergil, Breathe.  _ He still felt as though the Qliphoth vines were tightening around him. He closed his eyes and he could see Urizen in his vision, biting down on the fruit, blood spilling over his teeth. And suddenly Vergil could taste it, and nausea rolled over him again. He gagged, pulling away from the wall and yanking on his boots and grabbing the Yamato before dashing out of Dante’s room and down the stairs. He needed air, or he was going to be sick. 

He passed Dante who was blinking awake on the sofa, just sitting up. Vergil could see his eyes in the dark, dim light reflecting into their pale blue. “Vergil? What was that noise? Are you alright?” He stood, but Vergil didn’t stop, rushing to the front door, his stomach was in knots, paranoia and anxiety tugging at his mind. “Hey…” Dante jumped to his feet, following his brother. He reached him just as Vergil unlocked and threw open the front door. It was pouring down rain outside, Vergil stepped down into the rain, taking in a deep gasping breath. 

“Vergil,” Dante said from the doorway. “What’s going on?” 

Vergil let out a hiss. “Nothing. I’m fine. Leave me.” 

“Hey—” Dante set his hand on Vergil’s shoulder, but all Vergil could feel was the Qliphoth vines tightening around him. He spun around, unsheathing the Yamato and slicing straight through Dante’s shoulder. 

“I said  _ leave me! _ ” He snapped. As he yanked his weapon free, Dante stumbled backward, choking. Vergil ran the blade across his pajama pants, sheathed the weapon, and stepped out into the street, walking away from the shop. Leaving Dante bleeding in the dim light of the flickering  _ Devil May Cry  _ sign. His head was pounding… all he could feel and taste… was that dream. The rain pounded down on him, soaking through Dante’s ugly pajama shirt, and completely ruining his hair. He just let it fall into his eyes. 

He found himself walking aimlessly. He remembered Red Grave vaguely, from V’s memories. But some things had been changed in his absence. Fixed, really. Qliphoth roots had been destroyed, things were being rebuilt. But he found that he didn’t really care where he was going, or if he even knew how to get back. Maybe Urizen in his dreams had been right. He had acted out on his emotions and his anger  _ again _ . Dante probably wouldn’t even  _ want _ him to come back. 

_ Cursed _ . 

He was soaked to the skin before he found a place to sit, breathing in the cool air of rain at an open bus stop. He clutched the Yamato tight in his hands, resting his head against her grip. Another shaking breath. Minutes passed, or maybe hours. He didn’t even know what time it was. But he suddenly heard footsteps in the rain, and he glanced up, clutching the Yamato’s grip, ready to slay whatever pitiful creature came to confront him. 

“Dante?” 

_ That voice.  _ Of all the people, it had to be  _ her…  _ He bit his lip, glancing away quickly. It was too late. What did he expect? To be able to hide?  _ Pathetic _ . 

“No…” She whispered, coming into his view, “It’s  _ you _ .” She was dripping from the rain, her weapon slung over her shoulder, blood splattered across her shirt. Her hands were shaking. “Vergil? What are you doing out here?” 

“Leave me, woman,” he hissed. 

Mary shook her head, crossing the sidewalk to sit beside him. A  _ very _ dangerous move. His grip on the Yamato tightened, but the woman didn’t move to touch him, so he relaxed, just a little. “You know, you look even more like Dante with your hair like this,” she said. He gritted his teeth but didn’t respond. “What happened? Did you two fight?” 

How could he tell her the truth? That he had a nightmare, and that Dante had made it worse? He had run away. He felt like a  _ child _ . 

“Not a fight?” She frowned. 

“What are  _ you _ doing out here?” Vergil responded. 

Mary blinked, drops of rain dropping from her bangs to her cheeks. She was flushed, her eyes were dark in the dim light of a distant street lamp—but beautiful. He suddenly remembered the kiss, and self-loathing filled him once more.  _ She had growing feelings for… V… not me.  _ “I was out on a job,” she finally said. “I couldn’t sleep. Decided to try and do some clean-up work.” Then a small smile touched her lips, “Your turn.” 

He scoffed. He didn’t want to share anything with her. Especially not anything that showed that… underneath all this he was as weak as Mundus and Urizen said. But something compelled him to speak. “Do you dream, Mary?” 

She let out an exasperated sigh, “ _ Mary _ , really? Yes, I dream,” she said, “Sometimes good. Sometimes bad. Sometimes I don’t even remember.”  __

“When you have bad dreams… what do you dream about?” 

“How does this answer the question I asked  _ you _ ?” She replied, crossing her arms, but there was concern in her eyes. “Did you have a nightmare, Vergil?” 

He bit his lip,  _ hard _ , but he said nothing. 

“Talk to me.” 

“Dante and I,” he began. “We went to Nero and… his woman… Kyrie’s.” 

“Did something happen?” She asked. 

“No. It was… pleasant. More than I thought it would be. But… I dream of things… terrible things.” He shook his head. “I’m concerned that… I can never belong here. That Dante… Nero… they can never… see me as… family. V… V told things to Nero that I would never have dared to tell anyone… How can  _ I  _ follow in his footsteps?” 

When he dared to glance up, Mary’s eyes were wide. “Vergil, this place is your  _ home _ . You’ve only been here for one day. Give yourself time.” She hesitated but rested her hand on his shoulder, and he tensed but he didn’t move away from her touch. 

“You shouldn’t be out here much longer,” Vergil said, without looking at her. “You’ll catch a cold.” 

“Let me at least walk you home,” she whispered. He wanted to shove her off, to say no. But he couldn’t once he looked into her eyes again. 

“Fine.” He said, moving to stand.

“Wait,” she gestured to his hair, “Let me.” 

He offered her a glare in response. “It’s fine—” But before he could say anything else she reached out and gently ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it back away from his eyes. He closed his eyes, letting himself lean into her touch. Maybe that was selfish of him. But he wanted just this moment with her that he could call his own. Not V’s. 

She smiled, still trying to keep his longer hair back. “It’s not quite going to stay.” She whispered, “but now you look like yourself.” He allowed himself to forget everything for just a moment, focusing on her eyes. And then he suddenly pulled away from her touch, gripping the Yamato and standing quickly. 

“I should get home. I left Dante…” 

She followed him, barely catching up with his long strides. After a moment of walking in silence, she said, “You said that V told Nero something… So, you must have V’s memories?” 

He froze, pausing mid-walk, heart suddenly quickening. He knew  _ exactly  _ what she was implying. Was she embarrassed? What would make this easier for her?  _ If I tell her I remember everything…  _ No, he couldn’t. It would just make things worse. Perhaps it would make her resent him… 

“I remember only pieces of V’s time here.” He lied. “Only a few pieces.” 

For a moment he wondered if she looked upset, but her expression quickly changed to relief. And she let out a sigh. “Right. Of course. That makes sense. Just… parts of it.” 

Vergil’s stomach tied into knots again, and he gripped the Yamato so tight his knuckles turned white. “That’s right.” He felt sick, the touch of her fingers still at the forefront of his memory. He remembered the way she had cupped V’s cheek in the same way. _Liar… Liar…_ his thoughts seemed to whisper. _Liar._


	7. Chapter 7

Mary had said goodbye to him at the front door of the shop. And he had awkwardly watched her go. He could see that the lights were on from the faint glow between the cracks in the door. He didn’t know what Dante would do, once he stepped into the building, so he had waited until Mary was out of sight before he turned, in his soaking wet pajamas, to open the door to the shop. 

Now, hours later, Vergil was still trying to process his brother’s reaction. He stared up at the ceiling of Dante’s bedroom, repeating his twin’s words over and over in his head.  _ “There you are! I was worried…”  _ He had said, before he managed to remember himself,  _ “Er… well. I’m glad you’re alright anyways. Why are you looking at me that way? Just forget it!”  _

Forget it. No, he couldn’t. He had stabbed his brother,  _ again _ . And all Dante had said about it was that he had been worried.  _ Why?  _ What kind of ploy was this? He clenched his fists, biting his cheek. How weak had he become that tears were filling his eyes just because of a pathetic situation like this? The wide expanse that stood between the twins… Vergil had helped build part of a bridge over that expanse when they were in hell, with his own two hands. So… why did his mind always tell him to doubt the integrity of the structure? It was as if he were crossing and all he could think about were the rapids below, ready to sweep him away if he were to fall…  _ if _ Dante didn’t reach out to him. He clutched his head, drawing his knees to his chest.  _ Silence. Please… just some silence.  _

It was a while before he finally allowed himself to get dressed, pulling on his usual vest and coat. He ran his fingers through his hair to brush it back, only to remember how Mary had done the same last night. Why had he let her do that? Was it because in his memories they were closer than she knew? Her touch had been so gentle. He wished… he wished that things were different. And the thought made him nauseous. He quickly turned away from the mirror, grasping the Yamato, and moving down the stairs into the main part of the shop. Nero had said something the other day about there being plenty of clean up to do… so perhaps he and Dante should head out and help. Hunting demons might help him stop thinking. Thinking was the last thing he wanted to do right now. 

As Vergil stepped down the last step onto the main floor of the shop, Dante glanced up from his desk. “There you are! I was beginning to wonder if I should go wake you.” 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Vergil said, offering Dante a glare. He hadn’t slept at all since his nightmare the night before. And that had been some time between one and two. The thought of sleeping made him feel sick to his stomach. 

“Well, look, I’ve got something neat to show you.” Dante gestured to a slip of paper on his desk. Vergil squinted, hand tightening on his weapon. 

“If this is some sort of trick—”

“Don’t be dumb,” Dante snorted, “Come here. Look!” Vergil hesitantly came to stand beside Dante at the desk. Dante had a red marker in his hand, and apparently, he had used it to fill out the paper. He had outlined the paper’s edge with red, And in the middle, in Dante’s cursive scrawl, were the words “ _ Now a Family Business.”  _ Vergil stared at the red marker ink, bleeding through the paper. His breath caught in his throat. 

“So?” Dante grinned, “What do you think?” 

“A family business?” Vergil frowned. “What is this for?” 

Dante mocked being hurt, putting his hand to his heart. “It’s for  _ Devil May Cry _ , of course!” He gasped. “Since you’ll be working here now!” Vergil didn’t respond, his head was pounding.  _ Work here…? With Dante?  _ Yeah, of course, they’d talked about it when they’d been in the underworld. Dante had said Vergil would always have a home at  _ Devil May Cry _ . But… did he deserve that? 

“Vergil?” Dante frowned. “You…. uh… alright there?” 

Vergil stepped away from the desk, shaking his head. “You… want me to be…?” He hesitated, turning away from his brother and composing himself. “I stabbed you last night.” 

Dante laughed out loud, “I know. But what’s new, really?” 

_ How can he trust me?  _ Vergil glanced back at his brother, eyes narrowed.  _ How can I trust him?  _ Those doubts still plagued his mind… To join Dante in his work at  _ Devil May Cry _ ? To work together? Panic was bubbling within him. He gritted his teeth, “Working here would be  _ beneath  _ me,” he spat. 

“Wh-what?” He could hear the concern in Dante’s voice, “But… we talked about this, Verge, in the underworld. Didn’t we—?” 

“You only pity me,” Vergil hissed, spinning around to face his brother. “But you cannot  _ even hope  _ to combat my strength. Working here, no… working with  _ you _ would be  _ beneath _ me.” 

“Vergil, wait—” 

He turned quickly and pulled the Yamato free from her sheath, slicing twice through reality, a portal blooming in the wake of the blade. He needed to be alone. He stepped through, ignoring the protests of his brother, and let the doorway melt away behind him.  _ Alone …  _ It was only a moment before he realized where his jumbled thoughts had ended up taking him. He stood by the tree, the rain pelting his coat and hair and the ground beneath his boots. Before him was the house… the house where it all began. 

He took in a ragged breath, sheathing the Yamato. The last place Vergil had ever called home… The front of the house had crumbled… he remembered it happening vaguely, from both V and Urizen’s memories. He crossed the damp grass through the rain, stepping into the front parlor. He remembered laughter.  _ “I’m ‘it’ now, Vergil. You have to hide!”  _ He glanced up at the portrait above the fireplace, faded faces… even more so now, after months and months of suffering the outdoor elements.  _ Mother, Father… Dante… me…  _

He traced his hand along the mantle. The last time he came to this place he had turned away from this painting… rejecting the family he once had and embracing the darkness. He clutched the Yamato close. Was he doing that once more by turning away from Dante? His grip tightened on the mantle and he gritted his teeth.  _ Foolishness! _ It had been eight months since that day on the Qliphoth and now suddenly he was taking into consideration the feelings… the fates of his family members? What kind of weakness… no… what kind of  _ burden _ was this? 

He glanced back up at the painting, at the house around him. He remembered his mother holding him in this very room, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  _ “Why are you crying, dear?”  _

What was it Dante had said?  _ “That day she was  _ desperate _ to find you.”  _

This time he didn’t turn away from the painting. 

* * *

Nero groaned, stumbling out of the passageway into the dim light of the afternoon.  _ This is some bullshit.  _ Once again he was taking care of his Uncle and his Father’s mess.  _ Am I always gonna be some sort of mediator between these two?  _ Dante had suspected that Vergil would go to “the house” ...whatever the hell that meant. When he had pointed it out to Nero, the younger devil hunter had recognized it immediately as the one V had talked about. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together. So, this house… was it the place where Dante and Vergil grew up? Or at least, spent their childhood?  _ I really don’t know  _ anything _ about these two.  _

He took a deep breath as he surveyed his surroundings at last. Before him was the house, in absolute shambles. The ground was wet from the rain, but the clouds had finally parted and the sun was just barely pushing her way through. It was so quiet. 

Even with the front of the house completely destroyed and one side burnt to a crisp, Nero could tell that it had been a fairly large house. Vergil wasn’t at the front of the house, but hopefully, he was somewhere around here. Nero reached behind his head to touch the Red Queen’s pommel, just to be sure she was there, and then he moved towards what seemed to be the remains of a living area. It was soaking wet from the rain. Above the fireplace was an old portrait that confirmed his suspicions. This must have been the place where Dante and Vergil lived when they were young. 

“So you’re Sparda, huh?” He asked the distorted figure of the man in the painting. He couldn’t see his grandfather’s face clearly, the painting was practically destroyed. But he could tell that beside him stood a woman—blonde—and two little figures with pale hair. “Dante and Vergil… and their mother…” 

There was a shuffle behind him and Nero spun around, yanking the Red Queen from her place and holding her out towards the potential attacker. 

"Nero…?” Vergil stood there, his hands and knees covered in mud, the Yamato clutched tight in his hand, his hair wet and flopping in his eyes from the rain. 

“Vergil—” Nero let himself be relieved for a moment before he let irritation take control. “What’s going on? Dante said you just  _ left _ . And…” He paused, eyes flicking towards Vergil’s hands and knees. “What the hell have you been doing? Crawling around in the mud?” 

Vergil tensed a little, eyes searching Nero’s. “Did Dante send you?” 

Nero let out a sigh, placing the Red Queen back in her place behind him. “He told me what happened and I was worried, okay? Are you alright? Did something happen?” He gestured to the mud on his father again and Vergil let out a sigh. 

“Come with me,” he said. He led Nero around the house to the back. It was a big property, Nero realized as Vergil led him towards the side of the house that hadn’t really been touched by fire. “Here…” He gestured to a row of shrubs under the window as if Nero would know what they were. 

“Uh… you were crawling around in the mud here?” Nero frowned. 

“I was…” Vergil let out an exasperated sigh, “I was caring for these. They’ve grown quite wild in all these years.” An expression came over his face that Nero couldn’t quite identify. “They were my mother’s roses.” He whispered. He knelt down again, plucking a weed from the bed. “Dante probably doesn’t remember,” he scoffed, “but mother loved them… and when I tired of playing savage games with my brother, sometimes I would sit here with her and she would show me how to care for them.” Nero took a step back as his father almost smiled. “She told me once ‘There are some things you just  _ can’t  _ learn very well from books, Vergil. Like how to truly care for flowers like these. And how to be…’” He trailed off with a frown. “‘...a good brother.’ She always did want Dante and I to get along.” 

“Vergil,” Nero frowned. “What happened that day… all those years ago?” 

Vergil blinked, glancing up quickly to meet Nero’s eyes. A rage filled the man’s eyes such as Nero had  _ never _ seen before. “No. Th-that day is in the past.” 

“Fine.” Nero backtracked, raising his hands. “We don’t have to talk about that. But… your mother…” he gestured to the roses. “I… I want to know more about her. She  _ was _ my grandmother after all, right? Now I know she loved roses… will you tell me more?” 

Besides his genuine curiosity to know more about the family that led to his being brought into the world, Nero hoped that perhaps talking about the past would help Vergil. 

Vergil hesitated, his steel-blue eyes flicking between the roses and his son, before he stood, brushing mud from his knees. “Very well. Come.” 

Nero frowned, following the eldest of the twins back around to the front of the house and into the old building once more. He gestured to a doorway by the stairs and led Nero down a hall. “Unfortunately,” he began, “My father’s library was…” he hesitated, “...destroyed in the fire.” 

“The fire… right…” Nero frowned. 

“But, this was my mother’s favorite room. She would always have tea here. And sometimes I would be happy to join her and sit in the windowsill with a classic.” He swung the double doors open to reveal a little study. It was old, dusty with cobwebs. But Nero could tell it was once a beautiful little room. The window, and window seat, faced the roses they had just been attending to. There was a little desk, two small bookshelves, two old chairs with a small coffee table on the rug in the center of the room. Vergil drifted towards the bookshelves. “Mother kept her favorite books here… instead of in the library.” He reached to the shelf and pulled off a dusty book. It was wet with mildew. “Tragic,” Vergil whispered. “This was one of my favorites.” He held up the book, and Nero could see on the spine the faded letters:  _ Homer’s Iliad. _

“Even as a kid, you liked the classics, huh?” Nero asked, moving towards the window. 

Vergil nodded. “Yes. Maybe one day I’ll have a library of my own.” He almost smiled, and Nero couldn’t help but smile himself.  __

“So you really are a normal person underneath all that, huh?” 

Vergil glanced up, offering his son a disgruntled frown. “I don’t see any evidence to the contrary.” And then he paused, realization coming over him. “No, you’re right.” He set the moldy book back on the shelf. “I’ve been a disgrace since the day our mother died… the day Dante and I were separated. I once asked him … if our positions were switched on that day, if he would have turned out like me and I like him. But… maybe the question I ought to be asking myself is: if we had never been separated… if we had left this burning house together on that day…” he didn’t finish, hand tracing over his mother’s desk. 

_ So… that’s what V was talking about.  _ He had said something about playing far away from the house… had Vergil been away when the house set fire? Was that really what set everything into motion? “Vergil?” Nero frowned, “What was her name?” 

Vergil glanced up, eyes meeting his son’s. “Who’s name?” he asked. 

“My grandmother’s…. I… I’ve never heard her name.”

Vergil’s eyes widened, and he leaned back a little and then smiled. “Her name was Eva,” he said softly. 

“Eva,” Nero said. “I wish I could have met her.” 

“Yes,” Vergil said. Nero could practically feel the sorrow coming off his father in waves. “I wish you could have as well.” 

* * *

Vergil stepped out of the portal with Nero at his side in front of the  _ Devil May Cry  _ office. “Damn, that’s handy!” Nero said. “I could get used to that.” He turned towards his father. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Vergil admitted. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew he owed his son thanks. “Thank you, Nero.” 

Nero nodded, “Listen, you’re family… as much as you don’t want to admit it. And… well… where I grew up, or rather, for  _ who _ I grew up with… Family was the most important thing in the world to them. I want to honor that.” He grinned a little. “I meant it when I said I’m not letting either of you assholes die. Come on, Dante’s probably waiting.” Before they could take another step the front door of the shop swung open and Vergil immediately froze up. 

“There you are!” White coat and dark boots…  _ Mary.  _

“Lady?” Nero frowned. 

Mary hopped down the front steps to the shop and reached out to touch Vergil’s arm. He didn’t pull away, much to his  _ own _ surprise. “I came by this morning because I was worried about you after last night… but Dante said you’d gone off alone again. Are you alright?” 

Nero offered his father a knowing smirk and a little wave before dashing up the steps of the shop and disappearing behind the door. 

“I’m fine,” Vergil said. “I needed a moment to think.” She looked relieved. Or maybe that was his imagination. 

“Good. I’m glad you’re alright at least,” she said and turned to walk beside him back to the shop. They entered together. Dante was at his desk. Beside him stood that man… Morrison. Vergil remembered him from V’s memories. Nero was plopped down on the sofa in the corner. 

“Don’t worry, I can help with the East Side…” he trailed off as Vergil and Mary entered. 

“Dante,” Vergil said. The younger of the twins glanced up, relief written in his eyes, but it quickly shifted to anger. 

“Vergil,” Dante glared. “The hell are you doing back here already? Thought this place was  _ beneath  _ you?” 

“Dante, my apologies—” 

“I don’t need your ‘ _ apologies,’”  _ Dante said, standing suddenly, “I should have known—”

Vergil interrupted him, “Dante. I  _ want _ to work with you.” 

There was a moment of stunned silence before the man, Morrison, finally broke it. “Well, that’s a mighty fine coincidence.” He said. “As I have another thing that will need checking up on. And since you,” he gestured to Dante, “Can’t be in two places at once…” He glanced over at Vergil. 

Dante let out a deep sigh, dropping back into his chair. “If you’re serious about working here, Verge, this could be your first job,” he said. “Though… maybe it’s best if Lady helps Nero with the East Side and I go with you. I don’t want you to do your first job alone—” 

“I am perfectly capable of handling this on my  _ own _ , Dante,” Vergil growled. 

“Maybe it’s best if you two have some time away from each other,” Nero said. 

“I’ll go with him!” Lady volunteered. 

Vergil spun around to face her with a growl, and then turned again to Morrison, “The woman is  _ not _ necessary, I can take a few demons on my  _ own _ .” 

“Hey!” Mary gasped. 

“Oh, demon-killing is not required for  _ this _ job,” Morrison chuckled. 

Vergil blanched, glancing over and Dante with wide eyes. “Out with it. What is this ‘job’?” 

Dante gestured to Morrison with a shrug. 

The broker leaned back against Dante’s desk, cigar in one hand. “There’s a silent auction happening outside of Red Grave. Very elite… lots of well-off benefactors will be there… to raise funds for the rebuilding of the city. The catch? The things they are auctioning off are all… shall we say… souvenirs from that old tree.” 

“The Qliphoth?” Vergil asked. 

“Demon parts… tree parts… etc., etc….” Morrison drawled.

“So… we’re being hired by who and for what purpose?” Mary asked. 

“The city is hiring you, as the experts, of course. They only want you to go into the silent auction hall as guests and to ensure that all the things that the host has collected for the auction are  _ not _ dangerous.” 

“Easy enough,” Vergil shrugged his shoulders. “It will only take me moments to discern—”

“You  _ will _ have to dress well,” Morrison warned. And he gave the Yamato a pointed glance, “And certainly  _ no _ weapons.” Vergil tensed, glancing between his blade, the broker, and his brother. 

“I will  _ not—” _

“Well, that sounds easy enough,” Dante shrugged. “You’ll be able to handle it, right, Verge? If not, that’s alright, I’ll go and… I suppose you could go with Nero to the East Side….” 

Vergil knew what his younger brother was doing. He  _ knew _ he was trying to convince him to take the job out of spite. It wouldn’t work. He would not be convinced… would not be  _ tormented _ into taking some sort of pathetic identification mission… not without the Yamato. No. 

“So what’ll it be, Verge?” Dante asked, “Too much for you?” 

“No,” he said, gritting his teeth, “I can handle the job.” 


	8. Chapter 8

“This is  _ ridiculous _ ,” Vergil huffed, trying to straighten his tie. “We will only be in the building a matter of minutes. It will take me only a brief moment with each item to determine…” 

“Yeah, yeah, so you’ve said,” Dante waved his hand. “You’re supposed to look the part of a guest, so you don’t disturb the event. The crazy rich person who’s hosting it doesn’t even know the city is checking up on it.” 

“Why does the city even care—” 

“Do you think the city wants another giant demonic event to disrupt their rebuilding plans? They’re very invested in that  _ not _ happening.” 

“Fine. All very sensible. I still don’t understand why I can’t take the Yamato.” 

Dante let out an exasperated sigh. “Just go with the plan, Verge.” There was a moment of quiet before Dante spoke again, “Listen… We’ve hardly had time to talk since Morrison was here this morning. But… I wanted to talk to you about what you said before you left for the house…” 

Vergil didn’t look away from his reflection in the mirror. He clenched his jaw. What he had said this morning had been  _ pathetic _ ,  _ needless,  _ and _ cruel. _ He wanted to tell Dante that that was how he felt. To assure him that he really was sorry, that he shouldn’t have acted in such a childish manner. He wanted to tell him that he was grateful to him, for letting him stay here, for giving him a job, for being patient with him. “I apologized, didn’t I?” He finally asked, glancing at his brother in the mirror.

Dante let out a sigh. “Vergil—”

“When I was at the house, I remembered… mother always used to be so upset when we fought. Do you remember?” Dante was quiet, but he nodded once. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Dante. As annoying as you can be, fighting wearies me. And it dishonors the memory of our mother.” 

Dante rolled his eyes, “Tch.  _ You’re  _ the annoying one. But… you’re also right,” he admitted, turning away from the mirror. “Let’s try our best, for mom.” 

The door downstairs opened, “Dante? Vergil?” 

“Oh that’s Lady, back with the car,” Dante left the bathroom. Vergil heard him take the stairs two at a time before he turned his attention back to his reflection in the mirror. He wished he could have said more. But doing this for his mother was all he could muster now. Besides, he had to focus on the matter at hand. He didn’t feel like the new outfit suited him at all. A dark suit, with a silk tie, shiny shoes that were new and uncomfortable.  _ This is ridiculous. I look ridiculous.  _ He was too pale, and his hair  _ refused  _ to stay in place. It was much too long. He hated that. 

Well, there was no use turning back now. He would only have to glance at each item at the auction, right? And then he and Mary could leave. If there was an item that was dangerous Dante was to report it immediately. But the chances of that happening were rather slim. Vergil took a step back from the mirror, buttoning, unbuttoning, and then once again buttoning his suit jacket. He let out a huff and turned away from the bathroom towards the stairs down to the main shop. He heard Dante and Mary talking below, and it was about halfway down the steps that he caught sight of her and he froze.

Mary had always been stunning, but there was something about the dress she wore tonight that only enhanced that beauty. Her hair was combed neatly, there was a faint shimmer of silver on her eyelids, and her lips were tinted with red. The dress she wore was a soft lavender color, elegant satin, flowing down to the floor. 

“Oh, there you are, Verge!” Dante grinned, hands in his pockets as he turned to face the stairs. 

Mary turned, her bright eyes locking with his. As she turned he noticed that the side of her dress he hadn’t seen before had a long slit, and his breath caught in his throat, heart racing as his eyes traced down from her thigh to the heels she was wearing. 

**"** Well, you look very nice,” she said. Vergil felt his face go hot, and he reached out, gripping the railing on the stairs with all his might. 

“M-mary…”  _ What form of power…  _ “You…” He cleared his throat, “You as well.” 

“Well, get down here,” Dante said. “You two are gonna be late. And I gotta get ready to meet Nero.” Vergil nodded, stepping down the last few steps. Mary came to meet him. She reached out hesitantly and straightened his tie, smoothing down his dress coat. Vergil was frozen, his heart racing. 

“There!” she said, patting his chest. “I think we’re ready.” 

Somehow they made it to the auction house at the city limits without Vergil casting too many glances at his companion for the evening. He tried his best to sit quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the window at the passing buildings instead of back towards Mary. They had to park a couple of blocks away from the building. Vergil walked by Mary’s side. Her heels were tapping on the sidewalk as they walked together. He wanted to say something else… about how lovely she looked. The thought made him feel hot all over. Telling her she looked nice didn’t quite seem like enough. Especially when for some reason, her appearance had the ability to make him weak like this.  _ Is that normal? To have someone take away all your power with just a glance?  _

“Vergil,” Mary said. Her voice sounded hesitant, which made him worry. “I wanted… to talk to you about V…” 

He nearly choked, panic bubbling within him like a tea kettle beginning to boil. But he managed to keep calm on the exterior. “Later.” He said bluntly. “We should focus on the job at hand.” 

He knew he was only putting off the inevitable. “You’re right,” Mary said. And they fell into silence as they finished their short walk. “Here we are.” They paused on the sidewalk in front of a large, old building. The front doors were open and soft violin music and the sound of laughter spilled out onto the street, dimly lit by old street lamps. Vergil swallowed, hands balling into fists. When was the last time he had been in a crowd? “It’ll be alright,” Mary said softly, seeming to notice his discomfort. “We only need to be there a few minutes, right?” 

“Right,” Vergil nodded. 

They walked up the steps together and into a well lit ballroom-like space. There were tables that filled the room, covered in trinkets and specimens, along with sign-up sheets. In one corner of the room were a violinist and cellist. There were lots of people mingling, talking, laughing. They were all dressed  _ very  _ well, eating from the dessert table and ordering cocktails from the mixologist in the other corner. Vergil made sure to note all the exits in the room, two side doors, and the front door. There were far too many people here for his liking, and the two security guards on either end of the room made him feel even more self-conscious. 

“Come on,” Mary smiled, taking Vergil’s arm. “Let’s start on this end.” They began walking down each table, Vergil only taking a few moments with each item. Vergil had no idea how silent auctions worked, as he had never been to one, but it appeared that guests wrote their names and their price on the list. Throughout the night they could be outbid by others who wrote their names and a higher price, incentive to keep coming back to check and pay more and more for each  _ useless _ item. 

Most of these items, Vergil slowly came to realize, were complete  _ junk _ . Pieces of Qliphoth roots, demon horns that glowed faintly, small orb fragments that were  _ utterly _ useless, even one of Nero’s arms, completely mangled and missing several fingers. The title listed on the sheet for that one was something to the effect of “ _ Memorabilia From One of the Heroes Who Brought Down Urizen.”  _

“What a  _ fine _ story,” Vergil said sarcastically. 

“It’s not  _ all _ false,” Mary replied. 

“Come on, let’s finish this. I’m tired of this place. We only have a few more items to go.” The truth was, this display of high society made him completely uncomfortable. Didn’t these stuffy people realize how ludicrous this was? To be paying thousands for a broken prosthetic? Or a disgusting piece of armor that must have been salvaged from demon dust? He wanted to get out of here as soon as he possibly could. The last display, however, was something he had  _ not _ been expecting. 

While Mary was distracted by an earlier item Vergil froze at the title for the final listing. “ _ Books Describing the Nature of Demonic Gates _ .” He glanced up at the display on the table—three books stacked neatly, the last one open so that the viewer could see the sigils and diagrams inside. There was handwriting in the margins. Vergil  _ knew _ that handwriting.  _ Where did they  _ get _ these?  _ Hot anger was boiling in his middle. He glanced down at the sheet of paper once more.  _ “Recovered in the rubble in Central Red Grave _ .” 

“Quite fascinating, aren’t they?” A voice said, making him jump. Another guest was standing beside him, an older gentleman with glasses and gray hair. He gestured to the books. “They ought to have some very interesting secrets about why this keeps happening in Red Grave, don’t you think? I’m quite eager to  _ win _ them for myself.” The man signed his name and listed a price and moved along. 

_ More likely these books describe how one might incite these incidents,  _ Vergil thought. No, these books couldn’t be here. He wouldn’t stand for it. Just the sight of that handwriting made him angry.  _ These books should be destroyed.  _ It was with these books that one man grew to believe that he could become like  _ god _ by taking the power of Vergil’s father for himself and meddling in affairs that belonged to  _ no _ human. The memory of that betrayal, that  _ audacity,  _ sickened him. So Vergil made a decision in that split second of anger. He reached out, and  _ snatched  _ the books off the table, tucking them in his coat. 

“Mary, come.” 

“Excuse me?” Mary frowned, trotting after him as he began swiftly moving towards the exit. 

“Come,  _ quickly _ !” Vergil snapped. 

Someone was saying something behind them. “Did that man just take those books?” 

“Y-yeah. Hey! Hey! That man stole something!” A commotion was brewing behind them. 

“Vergil, WHAT did you DO?!” Mary gasped, quickening her pace as he began to  _ run _ . 

“Stop! Thief!” Pounding footsteps followed after them. Probably the security guards. There was no way they’d make it to the car like this, not even to retrieve the Yamato. First, they had to lose these blasted guards.  _ Think faster, Vergil. Think faster!  _

* * *

_ What the HELL is happening?! _ Lady had taken this job only because she wanted to help Vergil out, though she was certain he didn’t need it. Now everything was completely spiraling out of control. For some inexplicable reason, Vergil had stolen the last item?! “What the  _ hell _ is wrong with you?!” Lady snapped as she tried desperately to keep up with him in her heels and dress. “What the  _ fuck _ possessed you—are you  _ absolutely  _ insane?! Have you lost your mind—”

“Shut  _ up _ , woman!” Vergil snapped. Behind them, Lady could hear the guards shouting. “This way!” Vergil spun around, grabbing Lady’s wrist and yanking her into a narrow side alley. 

“Vergil, what the f—” 

He shoved her against the brick wall, leaning close against her until they were pressed into the shadows, whatever he was hiding in his suit jacket dug into her ribs. 

“Are you  _ absolutely  _ out of your  _ mind _ ?” Lady snapped. “Why in  _ god’ _ s name did you STEAL—”

Vergil hissed, slapping his hand over Lady’s mouth  _ tightly _ at the sound of footsteps. “ _ Silence _ .” 

The guards passed by slowly, scratching their heads. “I could have sworn they came this way…” As they passed, Vergil pressed closer to her. His hand smeared her lipstick, his body warm against hers. She felt a hot blush rise in her cheeks at how close they were. He was watching the guards pass, but she was memorizing his eyes… the flecks of pale green within the steel-blue that she had never noticed before. Her heart skipped a beat. She had to bite her tongue to shake her out of her stupor. 

The guards passed by, so why was Vergil still frozen like a statue against her? Lady glared, and then bit down hard on Vergil’s palm. The eldest of the twins let out a  _ yelp,  _ jumping away, books tumbling out of his coat. He clutched at his hand and glanced up at her, a flash of anger in his eyes as he let out a growl. 

“Don’t do that again!” Lady snapped. Then she glanced down at the books. “You did all that …. for  _ books?!”  _ Her voice rose in pitch as she spoke. “You  _ dumbass _ !” 

“Would you just calm down and let me explain?” Vergil groaned, running his hand over his face. Lady watched as a smudge of lipstick appeared on his cheek, near his lip. He didn’t seem to notice at all as he leaned over and lifted one of the books from the ground. “Mary, please. Look. These books must be destroyed.” He gently set the book into her hands. “I knew them… instantly. So you will as well.” 

“What are you talking about?” Lady hissed. 

“Open it.” 

Lady carefully pulled back the cover to see the faded scribbles of handwriting inside, and she nearly choked on her own tongue. Her grip tightened on the cover of the old tome. “M-my father’s books.” 

Vergil nodded. “Arkham’s handwriting. These books were what led to the rising of Temen-ni-gru.” 

Lady shuddered, her hands shaking. “You’re right… these should be destroyed.” Not necessarily for the content inside, she thought, but the fact that her father’s memory lived on in these pages made her feel sick to her stomach. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. 

“Yes.” Vergil gathered up the other two books. “I think we have a clear path back to the car now.” 

Lady laughed a little, “I don’t think you’ll be getting paid for this job, Vergil.” 

Vergil shrugged his shoulders. “Dante won’t be pleased. But…” she watched as he tensed a little. “These books… bring back bad memories.” 

They carefully stepped out of the alleyway, turning back towards the auction house, which they would have to pass in order to make it to their rented car. They were just about halfway there, when across the street someone shouted, “Hey! There they are!” Lady turned quickly, heart leaping into her throat as she caught sight of the two security guards sprinting towards them, across the intersection. 

“Run!” she gasped, pushing Vergil a little. He broke out into a run, the car was just ahead of them. “We can’t take the car, they’ll get the plate number!” 

“Unlock the car! Unlock the car!” Vergil gasped. For one moment Lady let herself enjoy how panicked he sounded before she managed to pull the car key from her little pocket and press the unlock button. Vergil dove for the back seat, freeing the Yamato from her sheath in one swift movement. The guards were practically  _ right behind them _ as he sliced through the air, once… twice… Lady watched in awe as the portal blossomed before her eyes. 

Vergil didn’t wait for her to go. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her through after him before she could protest. 

For one moment, Vergil’s warm hand on her skin was the only thing that grounded her. She felt like she was floating through  _ hot _ honey, her senses overwhelmed with a sweet sickly smell, her eyes blinded by red. Before she was suddenly yanked free from zero gravity and landed hard on her knees onto muddy earth. She let out a choking gasp as if she hadn’t been able to breathe. 

“W...w…” she wasn’t sure what to ask first. So she trailed off, glancing around them to try and determine where they were. They stood in a grassy clearing before an  _ old _ house that was missing its entire front. “Where…?” She glanced up at her companion to see he was holding out a hand. She hesitated, but then took it and he gently pulled her to her feet. “Where are we?” 

“None of your concern,” Vergil said shortly. “But… we are somewhere where they will not think to look… and we can burn these books while we’re here.” 

Lady glanced down at the book she had in her hand and nodded. “Thank you, Vergil.” She said. “You really are insane, but… I’m glad these books aren’t in anyone else’s hands.” She smirked a little at seeing his face in the pale light of the rising moon. That little smear of her lipstick was still on his cheek. “Here, Vergil,” she smiled, reaching out. He jerked away from her. “Hey,” she frowned, “Let me help. You got some lipstick on your cheek.” 

Vergil blinked, and then huffed, brow furrowed. “Tch.” But he didn’t protest when she reached out and gently rubbed her thumb against his cheek. 

“Hmm… it’s not coming off,” she said. “Let me…” She made eye contact with him, trying not to laugh as she licked her thumb and reached out towards him again. Vergil shoved her away. 

“This is  _ insanity _ !” He said, face burning bright red. “Get  _ off _ me, woman!” 

Lady burst out laughing, “I’m just  _ kidding _ ! Besides… that wouldn’t get it off anyways.” 

Vergil offered her a withering glare, but she could see he was still blushing in the pale light of the moon. He scoffed, running his fingers through his hair and clutching the two books he had in his hand tightly. “Childish. Let’s just complete this task. Follow me.” 

He led her towards the crumbling house. She grimaced. The whole place looked rather haunted in the dim light of the moon. She had no idea where they were, but she had a suspicion. This place seemed very familiar to Vergil as if he knew exactly where he was going and what he was doing. 

“We’ll burn the books here,” Vergil said, leading her into the remains of what looked to be a parlor… or a living space. Lady’s heels tapped on the old, water-logged floorboards as she stepped up into the house.  _ This place…  _ She had heard vague stories from both Dante and Trish about what happened, both on that day, decades ago, when Dante and Vergil’s mother was killed as well as the night when Vergil split himself into two. Was this the house? 

Vergil stopped in front of the fireplace at the end of the room. Lady nearly bumped into him. “We can burn them here.” 

“Alright.” Lady nodded, watching as her companion set his two books into the fireplace. She reached down to set hers in as well and then frowned. “How are we going to light these?” 

Vergil blinked, and then furrowed his brow, “Don’t you have a lighter?” 

“Does it look like I have a lighter?” Lady asked, gesturing to her mud-covered dress. “This dress barely has pockets.” Vergil’s steel-blue eyes glanced down at Lady’s chest, almost pointedly. “Are you  _ serious _ ?” She snapped, shoving him a little. “Unbelievable.” 

“A dress  _ without _ pockets?” He muttered, glancing away quickly. She could have sworn she saw a faint flush to his cheeks. “How  _ useless _ .” 

“You don’t have to tell  _ me _ that.” 

They were quiet for a moment, before Vergil sighed, glancing up at the moonlight through the shattered roof of the main parlor. “There’s one other way,” he said.

“And that would be… what? Banging a couple of rocks together to try and get a spark?” 

“No,” Vergil whispered, and then his eyes seemed to glow blue in the moonlight, his lips turning up into what could almost be a smirk. “I  _ am _ a devil, Mary.” He said, a roughness at the edge of his voice. “I will bring us  _ fire.” _

Lady took a step back instinctively as a rush of wind pulled towards Vergil, bright lines of blue light burst from around him, and when they vanished… he was in his devil form. Her breath caught in her throat. He was taller, if that was even possible, and broader. His wings were tucked close, a long tail draped to the floor from his mid-back. Sharp teeth… blue fiery horns… and glowing blue eyes. But it was Vergil. She could tell by the way he stood, the way he tilted his head, gauging her reaction. 

She took a step towards him, raising a hand. Moonlight glinted off of his armor-like scales. He shifted a little, and at last, drawing closer to him, she rested her hand on his chest. Smooth scales, with rough edges. But he was warm. And she could feel his heat from where she stood, the glow of the blue fire illuminated the parlor. She brushed her hand across his chest, and then reached up, fingers brushing his jaw, trailing along his spikes. 

“Have you not seen Dante’s?” Vergil spoke, his voice distorted, deeper… rougher. 

“You can talk!” She whispered. 

He laughed. A deep sound, echoing against his scales. He shifted. claws scraping against the wood floor. “So you haven’t?” 

“Only once in a while, in a tough fight… I never paid much attention.” She realized her fingertips were still brushing against his jaw and she jerked away, her whole face feeling hot as she glanced away from him. “S-so… how do you want me to light the book?” She asked.

He leaned over, “My horns. The demonic energy there is released as fire…” 

She nodded, lifting the little book in her hand as he leaned over further, and raising it above the flames from one of his horns. The humor of the situation hit her just as she raised the corner of the pages to the blue fire, and she couldn’t contain herself. She let out a laugh, hands shaking, and then she couldn’t stop laughing. 

Vergil let out a short growl of irritation. “Pray tell, what’s so  _ humorous _ , woman.” 

“N-nothing!” She laughed, wiping away a tear. “Just…” She couldn’t breathe, bursting into laughter again. “Isn’t this funny to you?! You  _ stole _ these books, and we had to run away from security guards. And now we’re here and we’re burning the books but we didn’t have anything to burn them with.” She could hardly breathe through her laughter, “So now I’m lighting a book on fire with your demon horn!” 

“Would you just light the damn book already, woman?” Vergil snapped. 

“Alright, alright,” Lady laughed, she raised the book again, her hands shaking, and lifted it into the flame spilling from Vergil’s open horn. She accidentally bumped the edge of his horn with the hardcover binding, and Vergil jerked back, letting out a low hiss. 

“Careful,” he growled, his voice breaking. 

“Did that… hurt?” Lady whispered. Vergil didn’t respond, so she must have guessed right. She frowned, staring intently into the blue flames to see the edges of his horns. Why did they hurt? 

“Is the book on fire?” Vergil said, impatiently. 

Lady jumped, glancing at the pages. “Ah! Yes!” She turned quickly, dropping to her knees before the fireplace, and lifting the blue flames towards the rest of the books. Behind her she felt the same rush of wind, there was a flash of blue light, and Vergil stumbled back to himself, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Good… good…” He sighed, leaning against the mantle for a moment and watching the books catch fire. He held out his hand once more, and she took it gently. He lifted her up to her feet, but she didn’t move to let go of his hand as they stood watching the flickering flames. Apart from Vergil they slowly became like normal flames, flitting gold and orange across the swiftly burning pages and melting covers. Soon enough the fire was raging. 

“I should have set our old house on fire after Temen-ni-gru.” She whispered at last, “Then this wouldn’t have happened. It was where my mother died… I never went back there. Not after learning that everything my father said… everything my father  _ did…  _ was a  _ lie _ .” 

“It’s laid to rest now, Mary,” Vergil replied. 

“I know.” She paused, taking in a deep breath, “Thank you, Vergil!” She met his eyes, squeezing his hand gently. “Now there’s another thing I have to do… I have to… come clean.”

“What do you mean?” Vergil asked. 

“You said, the other night, that… you didn’t remember everything that V experienced.” She hesitated, her heart pounding against her ribs. “Vergil, V and I… we shared… well…” she trailed off, frowning, trying to word things right. 

“I know,” Vergil said, breaking the silence. Lady raised her gaze to meet his eyes in stunned silence. 

“W-wh… what do you mean ‘you know’?” She released his hand slowly. 

His jaw tensed, his hands balling into fists. His voice was barely a whisper when he finally spoke. “I  _ lied _ to you,” he breathed. “I remember everything. I remember… how he told you how much he admired you… I remember how you kissed him, how he kissed you back—” 

Tears were blooming in her eyes, and this time she couldn’t contain them. The flickering light of the burning books was dying away, ash floating on the wind as the room was once more plunged into the moonlit darkness. “W-why?!” She gasped. 

“Because I was afraid you would be embarrassed if you knew I had those memories. I was afraid you would be uncomfortable!” 

“A-and… and ‘ _ he _ ’?! You say  _ he _ ! Wasn’t that you?! Wasn’t V—”

“V was  _ not _ me!” Vergil snapped. “...Not wholly me. Only partly.” 

“B-but, I thought…” she trailed off, trying to wrap her head around everything. “I really thought…” She gritted her teeth, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You  _ lied _ to me!” She swung her hand back and slapped him across the face. He closed his eyes, brows drawn together in anger. “Were you  _ really _ that embarrassed about what happened? You should have just said so and it would have been over with!” She was  _ furious _ . Rage boiling in her middle, trying to rise above the pain that was at her core. 

“That’s not—” 

“So what you’re saying is… if it had been  _ fully _ you, not just V each of those times… you wouldn’t have done the same as him…. you wouldn’t have….” 

“No. I wouldn’t have done the same,” Vergil said bluntly, “Of course, not.” 

The words were cold. They hit her like a knife sinking deep between her ribs and for one moment she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She shook her head, and turned to leave, heels scratching on the rotten wood floor. Vergil reached out to catch her wrist. 

“Wait! You don’t know the way!” 

“Let go of me!” She jerked her hand free. “I’ll find my way. Leave me the  _ hell _ alone.” 

“Mary—”

“Don’t  _ call _ me that!” She hissed. “My name is  _ Lady _ .” She pushed hard against his chest with her pointer finger, “And right now, I don’t want to be near you, Vergil. I don’t want to  _ see _ you.” And then she turned and left him standing in the moonlit clearing, alone. 

* * *

Vergil  _ slammed _ the shop doors open, marching across the main floor and up the stairs towards bed. Dante was sitting at his desk, shirtless, his hair stained red, his coat riddled with holes. “Oh, hey, Verge. How’d your first job go?” 

Vergil paused on the stairs but continued his ascent after a moment, choosing to ignore his younger brother. 

“Heh…” Dante grinned a little, leaning back in his seat. “Is that  _ lipstick _ on your cheek?” 

Vergil froze, reaching out to touch his cheek with his fingertips. “No. Shut up.” He took the last few steps two at a time and slipped into the privacy of the bathroom. He wanted to scream or to curl up into a ball and waste away. That smudge of lipstick was still on his cheek, close to his mouth. He  _ hated _ that he liked the way it looked there, that he liked it even better knowing that it was  _ hers _ . 

_ How did you manage to ruin everything, Vergil? _ Everything he had said in that clearing… he hadn’t meant it that way at all! Everything he had said had been  _ wrong!  _ He should have just said yes to her final question. Should have told her that even if he had been wholly himself he would have  _ wanted _ nothing more than to do what V had done. If he was strong enough to admit his feelings. He would have done exactly the same. V, after all, had been the half of him that held his desire… his emotions… his sanity. V acted on emotions that Vergil still held close within his heart. 

_ How did I ruin this so perfectly?  _ Vergil gritted his teeth, and then let out a yell, slamming his fist against the mirror, completely shattering his reflection, distorting himself. He was unrecognizable now, and he couldn’t see that damned smudge of lipstick. Blood trickled from his knuckles into the white porcelain sink.  _ V acted on  _ my  _ emotions.  _ He gripped the edge of the sink letting out a shaky breath.  _ Don’t you understand that, Mary? Don’t you understand…?  _


	9. Chapter 9

Vergil let out a deep breath. It had been a whole week since he and Mary’s argument. He hadn’t really wanted to do anything since then. Dante had immediately demanded answers, of course. Vergil hadn’t wanted to talk to him, but he  _ had _ broken Dante’s mirror, so he owed his brother an explanation for at least that.  _ “I lost my temper.”  _

_ “That’s all? That’s all you have to say? What the hell is going on, Verge?”  _

He didn’t want to share more. What was he supposed to say? That for a moment… for one small moment he had a spark of hope that perhaps Mary shared his feelings? How pathetic was that? He was a monster, destined to be alone, to be devoured by guilt. But the way she had looked at him, even in his devil form… the way she had reached out and touched him. He could still feel her fingertips against his jaw. So what was he supposed to say? That he had foolishly let himself hope, for just a moment…? 

He stood at the top of the stairs, in the shop. They hadn’t heard from Mary in a week. By now, Dante had to be guessing… Vergil could hear his younger brother downstairs, humming some sort of tune as he threw darts at the wall. The elder of the twins let out a deep sigh and began to walk down the stairs slowly. 

“Hey, there you are!” Dante said, leaning against the wall as his brother stepped down onto the main floor. 

“Dante…” Vergil hesitated, “I wanted… to ask you something.” 

“Why, Vergil,” Dante smirked. The very look made Vergil want to take back his words instantly.“Are you asking your dear twin brother for advice?” 

“No,” Vergil scoffed, “And you suggesting such a ridiculous thing—”

“Come on, Vergil, I’m kidding. Talk to me. Remember, we promised we’d be honest with each other.” 

Vergil let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I think I’ve upset someone, and… I don’t know how to fix it.” 

“Does this ‘someone’ happen to be—” The glare Vergil offered his brother made Dante shut his mouth immediately. “Alright, alright. I get it. You like your privacy. Well, I don’t know how I can help you without more details except to say that maybe you should apologize.” 

Vergil involuntarily grimaced. Apologies meant talking about feelings… and especially  _ those _ feelings. Dante noticed his sour expression and let out an exasperated sigh. “You apologized to  _ me _ , how hard can it be to apologize to La—I  _ meeaan _ … this person as well?” 

Vergil narrowed his eyes, “It’s because you’re weak that you accepted my apology. She— _ this person _ —is not weak. How do you know a pathetic apology will have an effect on… this person?” 

Dante rolled his eyes. “Accepting an apology and offering an apology are  _ not _ signs of weakness,” he said. “How strong do you think Nero had to be to offer you friendship after you ripped his whole arm off?” 

Vergil glanced away, feeling his chest tighten with anxiety. As nauseous as it made him to admit it… maybe Dante was right. Maybe he  _ should  _ apologize. After all, Mary was right. He had  _ lied _ to her, from the very start. What kind of foundation could be built on lies? It was like the bridge he imagined was being built across the gap between himself and his twin brother… he doubted the integrity, but he had no reason to. He and Dante both were using strong materials. What sort of materials had he been using to build the bridge between himself and… this woman? 

“Speaking of Nero,” Dante said suddenly, leaning back in his chair. “He’s invited us all to dinner at their place today.” 

Vergil glanced up, offering Dante a frown. “What for?”

“What for?!” Dante said, eyes wide, “Well, first of all, Nero’s family. So… you should probably get used to getting invited places with him. And secondly, it was Kyrie’s idea. She wanted to properly celebrate our return. Everyone’s been invited.” 

“Who’s everyone?” Vergil asked. 

“You, me, Trish, Nico, Lady—”

“I’m not going.” 

“Vergil!” Dante let out an exasperated sigh. “The party is  _ for _ you. You can’t just _not_ go! Besides, I have an incentive.”

Vergil scoffed, crossing his arms. “You cannot  _ bribe me _ —”

“Nero noticed your hair was bothering you last time you were with him. And he offered to let the two of us come over early. Kyrie cuts the boys’ hair all the time, so she’s offered to trim yours if you’d like.” Vergil stared at his brother, eyes wide. This was an opportunity too good to pass up. Over the week Dante had managed to finally entice his brother to go out, and together they had managed to purchase a couple outfits for Vergil—barely. Dante had tried to convince Vergil to get his hair trimmed as well, since he was  _ insisting  _ on  _ not  _ allowing Dante to try with the Yamato. But Vergil had refused. “ _ Some stranger cut my hair? I think not.”  _ Now, how could he say no to the invitation? If they went an hour early, maybe they wouldn’t have to stay very long. Vergil let out a deep sigh. 

“Very well,” he said, “I submit.”

Dante laughed, “You act as if a party is some kind of torture.”

“Clearly you don’t remember our birthday parties,” Vergil narrowed his eyes. 

“Come on,” Dante said, “They weren’t all bad. After all, mom always made sure there was plenty of chocolate cake for both of us…” he trailed off letting out a deep sigh. “But… I was a pretty terrible brother, huh?” 

Vergil’s gaze shot up, his eyes following his younger brother as he dropped down into his chair at the desk. What was he getting at? “I’d say you were an average brother,” Vergil replied, as if he really knew what other brothers were like. 

“That day—” Dante trailed off. 

“Dante,” Vergil frowned, “We talked about this before. None of this was your fault. I should have been more... gracious to you.” He let out a deep sigh. “If it makes you feel better… I’ll play that game with you.” 

“Seriously?!” Dante glanced up. The younger of the twins had been pestering his brother all week.  _ “Come on it’s bro bonding time! Let’s play a board game! I’ve got Battleship and… nope that’s all I have. I guess it’s Battleship!”  _ So far Vergil had managed to avoid whatever form of punishment this was, but he remembered now… how he had so often refused to play with Dante when they were young.  _ Perhaps I should be making up for that.  _

“Yes,” he sighed, “I will play one game with you.” 

“Great! I bet it’ll cheer you up too.” Dante said, standing from his desk and marching over to his shelf covered in piles of magazines. From the mess of magazines, he pulled the box with the label: BATTLESHIP. 

“How do we play?” Vergil asked, sitting down on the other side of Dante’s desk. There was a glint in his brother’s eyes that he wasn’t sure he liked. 

“Simple, brother, I’ll tell you the rules.”

* * *

_ _ “Hey, kid, thanks for inviting us. It’ll be good for Verge to finally get out of the house again,” Dante groaned, sitting down next to Nero on the couch. In the dining room, Kyrie had pulled out a chair for Vergil and had draped his shoulders with a towel. Nero could see she had already begun trimming the edges of his father’s hair, little tufts of silver drifted from his shoulders to the floor. The boys had surrounded them, sitting at the table and watching Kyrie intently. 

“I got my haircut last week,” Kyle said proudly. Vergil nodded once. 

“I told him,” Dante said, “To at least try and include the boys a little.”

“He’s doing better though?” Nero asked. Dante had told him that his father and Lady had an argument of sorts, that he wasn’t sure what the argument had entailed or what had really happened but that they were angry with each other. Which explained why Lady had said she couldn’t come to their little get-together. 

“I think so! We had a talk this morning…”

The boys in the dining room were laughing and talking. “Do you play games, Vergil?” Julio asked. 

Nero groaned internally, unsure of how his father would respond. 

“Yes, I do,” Vergil said, “And I quite enjoy them.” 

Nero blinked, “I… was not expecting that.” 

“What games have you played?!” Carlo gasped. 

“Today I played a game called Battleship,” Vergil said. “My brother and I played.” Nero could just barely see his father’s smug half-smile from where he sat. “And I  _ won _ .”  _ Ah, there it is _ . 

“I  _ let  _ you win!” Dante shouted. 

“Tch. You’ve always been a terrible liar, Dante. And a _sore_ loser.” 

“Whenever I play Battleship,” Carlo said, “Julio always wins.” 

“Everyone has different skill sets,” Vergil said, “Perhaps you’re not good at the game.” 

Kyrie swiftly interrupted, “But with practice, you can get better!” 

Dante let out a deep sigh. “Hey, kids, wanna hear a cool story?” 

“Yeah!” 

And that was the end of that. 

Trish and Nico joined them all for dinner, and once the meal was complete—Vergil complimenting Kyrie’s cooking not only once, but twice—Nero ushered his partner out of the kitchen so he could clean up, since she had done the cooking. Only a few minutes into washing dishes he turned to see his father joining him. 

“Hey,” he said, “I’m glad you’re here. I have something for you.” He dried his hands quickly and turned towards the shelf by the door. Over the week he had picked these out, and he was rather proud of his selection. He just hoped that his father would like them as well. He pulled three books off of the old storage shelf and held them out to Vergil. Nero’s father blinked, glancing down at the books in surprise. 

“What are these?”

“I… Uh well, you were saying in the house that you hoped someday to have a library of your own,” Nero said, “So I got you some books,” he smiled, “To start your own library.” 

Vergil reached out slowly and took the books from his son, hand shaking nearly imperceptibly. They were not old books, he could tell Nero had selected new ones, but they were bound like classics—the covers designed to look old. The first was Homer’s  _ The Iliad.  _ The second was Homer’s _ Odyssey.  _ And the final one was very large—a collection of poetry.  _ A Treasury of Classic Poetry _ , the cover read. 

“Ah, that one... I asked the lady at the bookstore if she had anything like Blake. And she pointed me to this. It has Blake in it! A whole section. And lots of others too. I…” He trailed off, brushing his nose with his thumb and looking away, “I hope you like it.” Then he remembered the last thing, and turned quickly to the shelf, pulling off the old book Vergil had given him and holding it reverently in both hands. But as he turned to hand his father the old book he was surprised to see such a warm, almost fragile expression in the man’s eyes. 

“Thank you, Nero,” he said, holding the books tightly, “I shall treasure these greatly.” 

“I’m… really glad you like them. I’ll have to find more for your collection during the holidays, and when you and Dante celebrate your birthday.” He handed his father the old book, and Vergil took it gently. “Say, when is your birthday anyways, Dante never really talked about it… I guess now it makes sense, knowing about you and the things that happened… but since you’re back maybe we should celebrate this year!” 

Vergil offered his son a smug smirk, “Dante and I do  _ not _ share a birthday.”

“Uh… you’re twins…?”

“I was born before midnight, and Dante was born  _ after _ . That much I remember.” 

Nero blinked and then laughed. “As ridiculous as you two are, I believe it!” He thought his father might be angry, but Vergil just smiled. 

“Yes, you’re right. It’s quite ridiculous. Our poor mother…” he hugged the books tight to his chest and sighed, “But… I don’t remember when our birthday is,” he whispered at last, “I don’t… I don’t even remember what season it was in.”

Nero froze, leaning back a little. He didn’t know when his birthday was either, not one bit. He had been brought to the orphanage when he was so young—only two. No one knew where he had come from, just that his mother had been killed brutally, someone had been looking for something (now he wondered if it was him) but they had never found it. “I don’t know when my birthday is either,” Nero shrugged. “We’ve always just celebrated it on—” 

“May.” Vergil said. 

“Huh?” 

“You must have been born in May.” 

“How… how do you…” 

“Humans… 9 months, yes?” Vergil said. “It’s a simple matter of math. I was in Fortuna in September—”

“Okay! Yeah, I don’t need to hear  _ anything  _ else!” Nero said, waving his hand. “I got it!” He quickly turned back to the dishes, shoving his hands into the soapy water. There was a long pause before he said, “Thanks…” 

“I’m sorry I don’t know the exact date,” Vergil whispered. There was regret in his voice. “If I had stayed…” 

“It’s alright,” Nero said, smiling a little, “Now I know the month. Before I didn’t know  _ anything _ .” 

“You can pick whatever date you’d like,” Vergil said, “And then we shall celebrate on  _ that _ day.” 

“I’d like that,” Nero said. “And… you should talk to Dante, about your birthday. I’m sure he remembers.”

“I will, then,” Vergil replied. Nero heard his father open one of the books, and there was a pause before he spoke again, a lilt to his voice as he recited a few lines of poetry: 

> _ “Can I see another’s woe _
> 
> _ And not be in sorrow too? _
> 
> _ Can I see another’s grief, _
> 
> _ And not seek for kind relief?  _
> 
> _ Can I see a falling tear, _
> 
> _ And not feel my sorrow’s share? _
> 
> _ Can a father see his child _
> 
> _ Weep, nor be with sorrow fill’d?”  _

He trailed off, and Nero paused in his work, gripping the edge of the sink before Vergil spoke again, “I… talked to Dante this morning and he might be right about something I have to do.” 

“Does that surprise you?” Nero asked, “Sometimes Dante knows what he’s talking about.” 

“Nero…” Vergil whispered, “Please… accept my apology.” 

Nero gritted his teeth. “For what?” 

“For everything I’ve done to harm you… for… all the ways I have failed you.” Vergil replied, his voice strained. 

Nero bit his lip, tears filling the corners of his green eyes. For years he had wondered what it might be like to finally know his father. When he was little he had imagined that somewhere out there was a man who would find him at last! He would pull him into a hug,  _ “I’m sorry, my son! You’re home now! With me! I’m sorry!”  _ But those childish daydreams had never come to pass. And when Nero finally met his father, Vergil had not been what he imagined. But he was what he had now, and to hear this from him… it was more than Nero could have ever asked for. He hated that if he turned around now his father would see how weak he was! 

But he could almost hear Nico saying those words:  _ “It’s okay to cry! … Devils cry!”  _

He turned, and before Vergil could escape, he threw his arms around his father, pulling him close, pressing his face against the man’s shoulder, and taking in a shuddering breath. “Thank you.” 

Vergil tensed, stiff in Nero’s arms as if he were waiting for the ordeal to be over. “Your hands are wet,” he stated, clearly unsure of what to do next. Nero let out a breath, and he knew that from that one shudder his father must know that he was crying. In response, at last, Vergil wrapped one arm around his son and returned the embrace. 

When Nero pulled away he turned quickly so his father wouldn’t see his tears, and got back to work cleaning up the kitchen. “There’s someone else you need to apologize to isn’t there?” He asked. 

Vergil frowned, “Yes. How did you know?” 

“Dante told me about your argument with Lady.” 

“Lady?!” Vergil seethed, “No, it was not—”

“Relax, Vergil, I know it was Lady. She’s the only one who’s not here today.” 

Vergil was quiet for a moment and he let out a deep sigh, “She has every right to hate me. I lied to her about something that is important to both of us. I can’t imagine how an apology would fix this.” 

“An apology is a good first step,” Nero replied. “You and Lady are both stubborn. So maybe it’ll take some time. But… if you reach out to her the same way you just did to me… it’ll start the process, don’t you think? I know it’s kind of weird… I guess… but you and Lady have known each other for a long time, haven’t you? She told me about when you first met.” 

Vergil was quiet for a moment and then he said, “Yes. We’ve known each other since we were young, but—” 

“Then I can’t imagine you two not overcoming this,” Nero said. “Even though it’s been a long time since that day you first met each other.”

His father was quiet for a long moment before, at last, he said, “Perhaps you’re right, Nero… I don’t suppose you have paper and a pen I might borrow?” 

* * *

Lady woke up with a pounding headache, and hunger gnawing at her middle. She had worked all night, and now she realized she hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before. When she finally managed to pull herself out of bed, after noon, she was greeted with the fact that her fridge was practically empty.  _ Just great.  _ Thankfully there were a couple of protein bars still left in the cupboard. She devoured one to satiate her hunger, at least for a little while, before she yanked on her boots and tried to at least straighten her shirt and hair. She grabbed her keys and yanked open her front door—only to come face-to-face with Vergil. 

"Vergil? What the hell are you doing here?" She spat. He looked tired and stunned. In his hands, he was clutching a piece of paper. 

"I apologize," he said, "I meant only to… slip this paper under your door…."

Lady eyed him warily, but he seemed to be genuine. Despite herself, she still felt a warmth within her when she was around him. Before she could ask any questions Vergil shoved the paper into her hands. It was lined paper like it had been torn from a notebook, and there was writing on it in pen. It appeared to be a letter, Lady realized as she unfolded it. But not too long of one. Her eyes traced over the first words. 

_ Dear Mary,  _ … and her heart fluttered at the messy scrawl, but the care with which he seemed to write her  _ name _ . Mary. 

> _ Dear Mary,  _
> 
> _ I have spent countless hours doubting the contents of this letter, but I have decided that I must say what is on my mind. You have to know, I am sincerely sorry for lying to you.  _

She reread those words with relief. And then glanced up at him with a smile, but he seemed on edge… almost panicked. 

“I’ll leave you… to read the rest.” He spun around, yanking the Yamato free from the sheath at his hip, and slicing through reality once and then twice. 

“Vergil, wait!” Lady gasped, but he was already moving through the portal. Before Lady could even  _ think _ about what she was doing, she was running after him, the letter still tight in her hand. The moment she entered the portal the same sensation of thick, hot honey surrounded her. Except this time, she did not have Vergil’s hand to guide her. Without it she was floating aimlessly through the red void, her thoughts all jumbled. The longer she stayed there the more voices she thought she could hear, whispering at her to follow them… to come towards them.  _ Mary…  _ she tried swimming away from them all, but everything was foggy, there seemed to be no direction in the red void.  _ Mary… _

“Mary!” She was grabbed and yanked free of the portal and dropped unceremoniously on the ground. “Foolish woman!” Vergil snapped. “Had I not noticed your presence you would be lost in the void for eternity!” 

“Why did you run?” She spluttered, trying to gather herself. Her vision was fuzzy, everything seemed tinged with red. 

“If I had wished to discuss the contents of the letter I would have come to you directly instead of writing them down,” Vergil replied coldly. 

She realized now that they were at the house, but during the daytime. Did Vergil come here often? It was a rare sunny day, and things seemed warm and sweet. She could almost imagine the front of the house having its normal walls and roof. The idea of it that sprung into her mind was beautiful and cozy. She could practically see the twins, as young boys running through the gardens laughing. Did they have a good life here… before that day? 

“Are you listening to me?” Vergil snapped, drawing her attention away from her thoughts.  _ That’s right! The letter! _ Thank goodness she hadn’t let go of the paper in the void. She was clutching it tightly in one hand so that it was now crumpled badly. She hoped he wouldn’t mind. 

“The house again…” she whispered. 

Vergil scoffed, “Clearly you’re not paying attention at all. Yes, it’s the house. I come here to think. It’s quiet, and I like that. Besides… I…” he trailed off, pain in his steel-blue eyes, “Sometimes it’s like I can imagine she’s still here.” _ His mother?  _ “Are you going to sit there all day? You should get home and finish reading that, Mary. It’s important.” 

“I know it is,” Lady said, “I can tell you spent a lot of time choosing which words to use and what might be the right way to say one thing or another… that’s just who you are.” He flushed a little under her scrutiny, “This letter is important to you… Which is why I’m going to ask you to read it  _ to _ me.” 

She watched with a little satisfaction as Vergil’s eyes widened and a horrified expression overcame him. “You cannot possibly expect me to voice these emotions out loud.” 

“Come now,” Lady said, “If you can’t speak them out loud then do you really mean them?” 

“You must know I do, with every fiber of my being. Please just read it.” 

Lady shook her head. “No. I want to hear it in your voice. I want to hear you say it. But if it bothers you so much, I’ll close my eyes and you can pretend I’m not even here.” She handed Vergil the paper and closed her eyes tight. It was a leap of trust with him. She  _ did  _ want to know what was in the letter. But there was certainly a chance he would  _ scoff _ , or rip the paper to shreds in retaliation. But he was quiet for a long moment. 

“If I read it aloud,” he said, and she could hear the sound of the paper rustling as he unfolded it. “Do you swear to agree to its contents?” 

She laughed, her eyes still shut tight, “Now, you know it would be a foolish decision to agree to a contract without having read the fine print.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Vergil whispered. He shifted a little, letting out a little huff of breath. She could almost imagine the way his cheeks puffed out, and it made her feel giddy. “Very well,” he said. “It’s not a very lengthy letter.”

“That’s alright. It’s the content that matters, right?” 

“Silence.” Vergil sighed, “I won’t be able to begin until you’re quiet.”

Lady quickly shut her mouth and waited. The sun was warm against her skin, and she could hear the soft breeze dance through the leaves of trees near the house before Vergil began. 

_ “Dear Mary, I have spent countless hours doubting the contents of this letter, but I have decided that I must say what is on my mind. You have to know, I am sincerely sorry for lying to you. It has tortured me this past week to think that I have ruined my friendship with you in one small second of a decision—a foolish decision. You have to understand that at that moment I was afraid that you would resent me… hate me… or avoid me if you knew that I remembered those moments, if you knew that I held each piece of V’s memory as if it were my own. I realize now, after much reflection, that it was a mistake. These memories are yours as well and I should have been honest with them from the start.”  _

Here Vergil paused, taking in a deep breath. Lady almost dared to open her eyes but then he continued, his voice soft, as gentle as it had been when he began.  _ “I won’t repeat the same foolish mistake again. Please, forgive me.”  _

He fell quiet, waiting for her response. Lady opened her eyes to meet his. He glanced away quickly, jaw tense, brow furrowed. 

“Thank you, Vergil,” she whispered. “I forgive you.” 

He blinked, turning to look at her again. For a moment she could see relief and warmth in his eyes, but it quickly changed to his usual serious expression. “Thank you, Mary.” He shoved the paper into his pocket. “You should return home now.” 

“Really? You don’t want to celebrate our restored friendship?” 

Vergil huffed, and she watched with a little laugh as his cheeks puffed out with the movement. “What would you want to do? Wander a shattered estate with me? Or… is it more your style to go out? I do not like places where there are other people,” he warned. 

“I know,” Lady said. “I was thinking… more that maybe you’d like to show me around?” She gestured to the house. “This place is important to you, isn’t it?” 

He offered her a glare, and then let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine then,” he turned towards the house, “I shall give you a tour of what remains.” He wanted to seem stoic and irritated, but he couldn’t hide his little smile from her. Still, there was something behind his pale blue eyes. He was tense like something was bothering him. She wanted to wrap him in her arms and hug that anxiety away. But she knew it would probably only make it worse. She had to pick up her pace to keep up with him and offered him a soft smile, the only way she knew how to best cheer him up… for now. 

“Show me your favorite place first!” 

* * *

Vergil stormed into the shop slamming the door shut behind him and marching up the stairs. 

“Oof,” Dante groaned, tossing a magazine away from his face. He had been  _ napping _ as per usual, which made Vergil roll his eyes. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut  _ up _ , Dante,” Vergil hissed. “I’ll have you know, the apology letter went over very well, and now we’re friends again.” 

“Then what the hell’s got you so mad?” Dante frowned. 

Vergil didn’t respond, just continued marching up the stairs towards Dante’s room, a room that he could practically call his own now, to be honest. He shut the door hard, and then stood there, taking a deep breath, hand tight on the Yamato. After a moment to let himself calm down he reached into his pocket and ripped the crumpled paper free. 

_ You did it again, Vergil. You lied.  _ It wasn’t  _ really _ lying, was it…? To exclude the truth… to hide… only parts of something? After all, regardless of how much of the letter he read… it was all still from his heart, and every word of it was true. It hadn’t been a lie not to read it all, right? 

_ “These memories were yours as well and I should have been honest with them from the start. The truth is, even if I had been wholly myself in those moments with you, Mary…. I would have wanted nothing more than to do the same V had done. V was the part of me that held my heart...my emotion. He acted on emotions, in those moments… emotions that I’ve always had, since the day we met in that tower.”  _

Vergil hated this. He tossed the letter into his bottom drawer and slammed it shut. He felt sick to know that this was still buried in his heart, to know he had kept this from her… if she had only read the letter herself…. how could she have asked him to do such a thing? It had completely thrown him. 

_ “If you can’t speak them aloud then do you really mean them?”  _ She had asked, and just remembering that made him curse himself.  _ Yes, I mean them… every word. I have feelings for you.  _ Feelings. Just…  _ feelings _ . He couldn’t describe them, but when he was with her it felt like he was warm at last. 

_ “If you can’t speak them aloud then do you really mean them?”  _

He took a breath, balling his hands into fists. “I have  _ feelings _ for you, Mary,” he whispered to no one, “I… would have done the same as V… I have feelings for you.” 


	10. Chapter 10

“So?” Nero asked, leaning back against the brick wall. Beyond the corner of the alleyway, a street lamp flickered. This was a bad part of Red Grave, a part still mangled by the remains of Qliphoth roots, and overrun by demons. “Did you talk to Lady?” Vergil tensed, gritting his teeth. It was quiet right now in this part of the city. Quiet enough that he knew Nero probably heard Vergil shift. He didn’t really want to discuss this with his son. 

“Mary and I are friends again,” he said shortly, but he knew the tone of his voice, bordering on anger, was a dead give away. Nero frowned, green eyes tracing over his father’s expression and the way he was rigid at the back of the alley. 

“But it didn’t go quite the way you planned, huh?” 

“I never said such a thing,” Vergil huffed, “You’re making an assumption.”

“You don’t have to say it,” Nero chuckled, his attention turning back to the corner. “I can tell you’re irritated. So what happened?”

There was absolutely no reason Vergil should tell his son anything, and the audacity the boy had in assuming that he would just reveal to him all his secrets… it made Vergil frustrated. But, even more aggravating was the fact that somehow Vergil  _ wanted _ to confide in the boy. 

“She wanted me to read the letter aloud,” Vergil replied, not telling Nero everything, really. “But I was unable to read the whole thing… That’s not quite a lie though, is it? I read the apology part.” 

“The apology part?” Nero frowned, turning back to his father, “What was the other part?” 

Vergil felt his whole face go hot, and he glanced away, biting his lip. How  _ pathetic _ . “It’s nothing,” he growled. 

“Well, fine, don’t tell me,” Nero shrugged his shoulders. “Come on, I hear something this way.” He led his father out of the alley and into what appeared to be a traffic circle with a fountain in the middle. The fountain was dry, stained with blood, beyond the buildings across the way were the remains of Qliphoth roots. Nero spoke again, “Well, I’m glad the two of you are at least friends again,” he said. 

Vergil frowned, clutching the Yamato tight in his hand. “As am I.” 

They were quiet for a minute as they began their patrol, Nero’s hands tight on his weapon, his eyes focused. Even in the dim light of the city at night, Vergil could see the determination in his son’s eyes and a sense of pride overcame him. 

“Hey, d—Vergil?” Nero asked, not turning back to face his father, “There’s something that I’ve been meaning to ask you, if… you’re okay with that?” 

“Just speak,” Vergil sighed, following Nero down another dark alley. Nero hesitated before he finally spat it out. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me about my mother.”

Vergil froze, quiet for a long moment. He wasn’t expecting that. But he supposed that it made sense, and he owed his son at least that much. The boy had never really known his mother. Did he know anything? Did he even know her name? Vergil didn’t know much, but… he at least knew enough to give Nero some closure. The young man turned back towards his father. 

“If you don’t want to talk about it right now, that’s alright.” 

“Her name was Margaret,” Vergil whispered, leaning against a brick wall for support. He let out a huff of irritation, “She insisted everyone call her Maggie, but I refused. Margaret means  _ pearl _ . And I… I thought that was beautiful,” he whispered. “Though, I was not really opposed to sometimes calling her Meg when we were alone.” They continued walking. The more Vergil talked, the easier it was to reveal to Nero the short story of who his mother was—as far as Vergil knew her. “She was a librarian on Fortuna,” Vergil said, “That’s how we met. One of the wisest there… she always had an answer to any question you could ask. And if she didn’t know, then she certainly knew which books to look for. I was there for research,” Vergil whispered, “From a young age I had begun my pursuit of ultimate power… my goal to be able to protect the things I had and those dear to me. What I did not expect was Margaret becoming one of those things.” He smiled almost wistfully, ‘You have her eyes, you know.” 

“Did you love her?” Nero asked. 

Vergil froze, Nero was leading them down a wide street covered in broken glass from the shattered building above them. The shadows of old Qliphoth roots flickered in the light from a cracked street lamp. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, “I loved her.  _ Dangerously _ . I never said it out loud and if she felt the same way for me neither did she,” he said. “If we had, I wonder if our fates would have been different. It was that love that drove me in my search for power…” He coughed, trying to cover the tears that stung at the corners of his eyes. “Ironic that it was my very search to save her that ended in her death. By then, I was too far… By then Mundus…” He shuddered, he couldn’t bear to say it. 

“What do you mean,” Nero asked, “when you say that your very search for power killed her?” 

“If I hadn’t gone searching for a way to keep her safe, I might have been able to protect her,” he growled. “I could have been there for you, Nero. If I hadn’t become a monster by Mundus’s hands. Dante told me about the Order of the Sword… the things that happened when you first received the Yamato. You did well for yourself even then. I wish I had been there for you, Nero, but I’m glad I wasn’t.” It was Nero’s turn to pause, his hand tightening on that strange sword of his, he turned to face his father, green eyes narrowed. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Before Vergil could get another word in, there was a guttural screech from above them. “Looks like we have uninvited guests,” he mused, pressing his thumb against the Yamato’s handguard. Nero revved his weapon, spinning around to face the demons that were joining them just as it began to rain. In the alleyways ahead Vergil could see the glowing eyes of  _ many _ demons beyond. He could see them beginning to approach… empusas, antenoras, cainas… The sound of something revving that  _ wasn’t  _ Nero’s sword caught Vergil off guard and he glanced back to see Trish’s bike skidding to a halt behind him. Mary hopped off, followed by Trish herself who tossed her hair over her shoulder. 

“Looks like you could use some assistance,” she said. 

“We’re just fine, thank you,” Vergil hissed. 

**"** Now now,” Mary beamed, hefting Kalina Ann onto her shoulder, and aiming. “You can’t have  _ all _ the fun, you know.” 

“Who the hell cares?” Nero spat, “Let’s get this over with.” 

* * *

Nero watched in irritation as Vergil’s eyes traced over Lady as she leaned over, retying her boot, and checking the undone strap on her thigh.It was half past two in the morning, and Nero was covered in blood, stank of demon, and he wanted to get home to Kyrie, but as leader of this particular outing, he needed to make sure everyone got home safely, and Dante still wasn’t back yet. He watched, gritting his teeth as Lady glanced up and met Vergil’s eyes. Their cheeks both tinted pink, the furrow in Vergil’s brow deepening with frustration. 

“What are  _ you _ looking at?” Lady huffed. 

Trish was leaning against Nico’s van, a delighted light touching her eyes, “See something you like, Vergil?” She said, causing both Vergil and Lady to turn beet-red and glance away quickly. Nero felt like he was gonna be sick to his stomach. He stood up straight from where he was leaning against a crumbling wall and marched across the street to the van where they stood, stomping up into the vehicle and slamming his Devil Breakers down on the counter. 

**"** Hey!” Nico gasped, putting out her cigarette, “Watch it! Jesus, what’s got you all worked up?!”

“Nothing,” Nero snapped, as he hopped back out onto the concrete. He kicked a chunk of brick and watched it sail across the street, bouncing against the pavement. “I’m going for a walk.” He tapped his shoulder to make sure the Red Queen was in her place and then began marching down the street. “I have my phone, call me when Dante finally decides to stop wasting our goddamn time.” 

He walked alone only for a short time, his dad’s words playing over and over again in his mind.  _ “I’m glad I wasn’t _ .” Why? Ever since he was a child he had dreamed of the day he would finally meet his father. He had hoped that on that day his father would tell him how overjoyed he was to have Nero in his life. But Vergil… Vergil wasn’t like that. And Nero understood, to a certain point. But he couldn’t understand why his dad would say something as cruel as this. It didn’t make sense. 

“Nero…” 

Nero didn’t turn around, facing the dead end of an alley, tears of anger clinging to his eyelashes.  _ I’m glad I wasn’t _ . “Leave me alone, Vergil,” he snapped, frustration growing in his middle. 

“Nero, why are you upset? Did something happen?” 

“I said  _ leave me alone _ !” Nero shouted, spinning around, an explosion of power bursting inside him with a flash of bright light. He balled his hands into fists, claws digging into his blue flesh. His father looked bewildered at this behavior, and confused. Nero gritted his teeth, “Did you forget already?” he hissed, his voice sounded distorted in this form. He tried to calm himself, taking a deep breath and letting the demonic energy within dissipate. 

“I said something…” Vergil frowned. “Something that made you angry?” 

“Vergil, all my life I’ve been dreaming of meeting my father. I always wondered what it might be like. And now here you are.” He closed his eyes, crossing his arms a little and hugging himself. “You’re not what anyone would expect, and that’s okay. But to say what you said to me when all my life I prayed so hard every night that one day you would come back for me… You don’t understand how painful it is!” He hissed. “I begged any god that would listen to  _ please _ ,” tears rolled down his cheeks, but he didn’t care anymore,  _ “Please give me my father back!  _ It was bad enough with my weird hair… but the other kids, when they found out I wished for that more than anything in the world… they… they were  _ cruel _ . They told me my mother had no husband, I had no father. I was a bastard.” He spat out the word, “Deadweight. And they  _ never _ let me forget it. So if it’s true,” Nero snapped, eyes filled with righteous ire, “Then tell me now. I won’t set myself up for any more disappointment. If you hate me, if you never wanted me—” 

“ _ Silence _ !” Vergil snapped, anger in his voice. His hand was so tight on the scabbard of the Yamato that his knuckles were stark white. “What drove you to these  _ inane _ conclusions?” 

Nero looked away, biting the inside of his cheek before trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke, “You said you were glad you never came back for me. Glad you were not there for me—”

Vergil shook his head, “You’ve misunderstood me, son,” he said, and his voice was almost softer than Nero had ever heard it. “Through your experiences… because of your mother, because of the people who raised you, each individual person you encountered… you grew into an admirable young man,” he said gently. “If I had been there, you wouldn’t be the way you are now, Nero. I am afraid I could not teach you the things that you learned as you grew older. You have such kindness. Such strength…” he trailed off. “If I had been there… you would not be yourself.”

Nero let out a breath, pathetically wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. “Fuck you, Vergil,” he said, laughing, “If you had just said that in the first place—”

“It’s what I  _ meant _ ,” Vergil said, offering his son a glare. “And…” he almost smiled, “I meant every word this time as well.” 

Nero chuckled, “Almost sounds like you’re proud of me or something, old man.” 

“Don’t get too cocky,” Vergil said with a frown, “Everyone has room for improvement.” 

Nero took in a deep breath, “I’m sorry, D—Vergil… for… getting upset.”

“No apology is necessary.” Vergil smiled a little, and Nero let out a sigh of relief as they walked together back to the van to find that Dante had finally arrived. 

* * *

They said their goodbyes at the van. Dante rushed on ahead, spouting something about being starving and having pizza waiting. The walk to the shop was only a few minutes, and Vergil and Lady walked side-by-side since it was kind of on the way back to Lady’s apartment from where they were. Lady finally broke the silence, “Was Nero alright?” 

“Yes,” Vergil replied, “He’ll be fine. It was a misunderstanding.”

“I’m glad it’s sorted out.” Lady smiled. She glanced over at him as they walked. In the neon light from a shop window, Vergil seemed to glow, the light reflecting in his eyes, and touching his frost-white hair. Her gaze finally rested on the curve of his lips, and her heartbeat quickened, heat rising to her face. She quickly glanced away.  _ What kind of things are you thinking, Lady?  _ He had made it very clear that he didn’t share the same feelings V had… or that… maybe V hadn’t had those feelings at all. It was just in the moment anyway. So why did it hurt to think that he didn’t care for her that way? 

When they finally reached the shop, Vergil paused, practically in the middle of the street, “You…” he hesitated, turning to face her, “You look…”

“Cat got your tongue?” Lady teased, reaching out and tapping his nose with the tip of her finger. Vergil blinked and then glared. 

“I was only going to say that you look nice tonight,” he spat, “But I take it back.” 

Lady glanced down at herself—her usual demon-hunting attire, stained from the fighting of the evening. She laughed, “Yes, demon blood and guts are very becoming of my beauty, huh?” She offered him a teasing smile, leaning close. Vergil scoffed. 

“It’s not that,” he said, clearly irritated, and trying to hide a blush. 

She fell quiet, glancing down at his free hand, which was clenched at his side. “I’m sorry,” she sighed, “I didn’t mean to tease you.” She smirked, “You’re just an easy target.” Vergil rolled his eyes and turned to face her again, the glow the  _ Devil May Cry  _ sign their only light. “So maybe I  _ did _ mean to.” 

“Silence,” Vergil said, “You talk too much, woman.”

They were standing close, and Lady reached out, just a little, fingers hesitantly brushing against his hand. “What would you prefer I do?” She asked. He glanced down at her, cheeks flushing pink but he didn’t move his gaze from hers. He relaxed his hand and she gently took it in hers, entwining their fingers together. 

He scoffed, but Lady watched as his eyes traced over her for a moment.  _ I know I should forget about V… forget about these feelings…  _ But it seemed impossible. It felt  _ so _ right holding his hand, and his gaze on her, so intense… it made her heart quicken, he made her feel hot all over. 

He let out a strained breath, “Mary…” Before she realized what she was doing, she lifted her arm and pressed a tender kiss to the back of his hand. She couldn’t tell if the deepening red on his cheeks was from the glow of the sign or from a blush. But he took the kiss as an invitation and stepped closer, letting the Yamato hang at his side as he reached up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing lightly against her skin. 

“Yes?” she asked, clutching his hand between them. He tilted his head and her heart skipped a beat. He was so close, his forehead brushing against hers, white lashes lidded his beautiful blue eyes, and she could feel his warmth.  _ Kiss me.  _ She traced the tip of her tongue across her lower lip, and watched as his eyes followed the movement before he let out a breath, and leaned closer, their noses brushing. 

“Mary, you—”

“Vergil?” They sprung apart at the sound of Dante’s voice. “Geez, are you coming in or what? I wasn’t sure if you wanted pizza.” 

“Mary and I were just…” Vergil cleared his throat, clutching the Yamato. 

“Talking about the cleanup,” Lady shrugged. 

Dante stood on the front steps, one brow raised, “Uh-huh…  _ sure _ you were.”

“I… uh… better get home,” Lady said, crossing her arms, practically hugging herself. She could not  _ believe  _ what just happened. How close they had been—she could have kissed him, if she wanted. This was insanity! To have these feelings for Vergil? She had to clear her head and think rationally about this. And yet… there was a tiny hope. The way he had looked at her in that moment, the way he had let her take his hand, and had stepped closer to her. She felt an involuntary smile come over her lips. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Lady!” Dante said, waving. 

She sighed and nodded, readjusting Kalina Ann’s strap on her shoulder. “I’ll be here.” She dared to glance over at Vergil once more to see his eyes were on her, something akin to regret or… longing was written in the lines of his face. And Lady wished Dante had waited only a few more moments to come out of the shop. 

“Are you coming?” Dante asked again, “Don’t you want pizza? Or can I eat it all?”

“I’m coming,” Vergil snapped, “But I’m going to shower and sleep. I don’t want any pizza.” 

**"** Great. More for me.”

Lady turned beginning her slow walk back home, listening to the brothers argue as Vergil walked up the front steps. She shook her head, hugging herself as the dark seemed to grow closer around her. Her emotions were getting the best of her. Had she…  _ wanted _ him to kiss her? No. Impossible, and yet… there was something… just a small piece of her that thought  _ maybe she had _ . What would have happened if Dante hadn’t come out when he did? What would have happened? 


	11. Chapter 11

“Good job, bro,” Dante said, dropping into his chair as they entered the shop. Vergil’s twin was covered in blood and had a few healing cuts and bruises to show for their outing. “I’d say all of us together make a pretty good team. We cleaned up several blocks tonight.” Then his face twisted into a grimace, “Why are you making that face? Still thinking working here is  _ beneath you _ ?” 

“Will you ever let that go?” Vergil said harshly, “You know when I’m irritated I speak out of turn.”

Dante kicked his feet up on his desk, grabbing the box of pizza he had ordered and eaten half of before their outing. “You never apologized,” he said, taking a huge bite of a slice. 

Vergil let out a huff of annoyance, “Yes,” he said, “I  _ did _ .” 

Dante frowned, chewing thoughtfully, “Maybe you did,” he said, his mouth still full. Vergil groaned. 

“I told you, Dante, those words should have no meaning. They were nothing but lies.” He hesitated. He didn’t really want to talk to Dante about this, and especially not right now. It was past three in the morning, and he was exhausted, sweaty, and splattered with demon blood and guts. He wanted to take a shower and sleep. Besides, Dante was being gross and annoying. What kind of heartfelt brotherly moment was this? “The truth is,” Vergil said, gritting his teeth and trying his best to plow through what he  _ knew _ he  _ had _ to say, “You are my brother. I already told you that day, I’ll work with you. I’ll be a part of  _ Devil May Cry _ . Are you pleased with yourself? You’ve convinced me. You’ve coerced me into being a part of your ‘family business.’” 

Dante devoured the last of the piece of pizza and offered Vergil a grin, “Does that mean I can hang this up?” He held up the paper sign, which had been smudged a little since Vergil last saw it. 

“Do whatever you want,” Vergil said, trying to sound indifferent. For one moment, the elder of the twins let himself feel a sense of pride. He wanted to be irritated with his brother, but Dante  _ was  _ trying hard to welcome him, to truly give him something to be a part of… and for some reason, it made Vergil incredibly… happy? Was that what that emotion was? He clutched this coat at his chest and watched as Dante stood up, grasping the piece of paper in his hand and marched out to the front door, throwing it open. The younger of the brothers flicked out a small knife and sunk it deep into the paper against the door. “There!” He said. “Now it’s official! Welcome to  _ Devil May Cry,  _ Vergil. Thanks for joining the team!” He grinned. 

Vergil groaned, rolling his eyes, but still, that warmth, the feeling of  _ belonging, _ made him actually smile—before he could manage to hide the expression from his brother. But Dante didn’t tease like Vergil was sure he would. Instead, he returned the smile, and moved back to his desk, dropping into his chair once more. “Go ahead and get some rest, Verge,” Dante said, “I know you wanted to.” 

Vergil nodded and shuffled up the stairs. After a quick shower, trying not to think too hard about the experiences of the evening, he practically collapsed into Dante’s old bed, pulling the blankets close around him. He was glad that, at last, things were starting to feel more like home. He had connected with Nero, even just a little bit, and he felt proud of his son and proud of how far they had come in such a short amount of time. And as much as Dante annoyed him, he was also proud of their growing connection. Ever since that day on the Qliphoth, things had been changing. But… there was something in this new normal that still confused him.  _ Mary _ . 

Just now he had been so close to her, and yet something burning within him had urged him to get even closer, to close the gap between them. The memory of V’s kisses with her plagued his memory, and now his whole body was yearning for Vergil to steal a kiss of his _own_. The way she had looked up at him, beautiful mismatched eyes lidded with her lashes, her nose brushing against his. She had licked her lip, opening her mouth just slightly, and it had almost broken his resolve. What was this power? He had felt it once before…. Years upon years ago. Now it was a distant memory. The result of it had been the conception of his son. And now… this feeling had returned, so strong like it was back then. But this time… for _her._

_ Stop thinking about this utter nonsense, Vergil _ . But when he closed his eyes to sleep he allowed himself to recall that final kiss Lady shared with V and imagined that it hadn’t been V… it had been him instead.

* * *

“How are you feeling?” Kyrie asked as Nero slipped into bed after having a shower. She had woken when he’d finally arrived home, and as per usual she was relieved to see him safe. 

“Actually,” Nero mused, “I’m doing great.” He pulled her into a sweet kiss, brushing his thumb over her freckled cheek. “Missed you though.” 

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Kyrie giggled, “I didn’t think you were very excited to go to work tonight.” 

“Well, it’s just…” he trailed off, frowning. 

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything,” Kyrie whispered, cupping his cheek. 

“Tonight I was talking to Dad about the past...” Nero whispered. “And he said that he was glad he wasn’t here while I was growing up because then I wouldn’t have turned out the way I am. It’s almost like he was proud of me. Is that allowed? Is he allowed to be proud of me?” Kyrie was trying to suppress a giggle, Nero could see it in her beautiful brown eyes from where his head rested against the pillows. “What’s so funny?” He asked, trying to suppress his own smile at her delight. 

“Nothing,” she smiled, “Not funny, just…” She let out a soft sigh, “You called him Dad.” 

Nero paused, and then his eyes widened and he let out a soft laugh, “I did, didn’t I?” 

“And…” Kyrie continued, “I think it’s allowed...for him to be proud of you. He’s your father, Nero, and he’s trying his best right now, don’t you think? And you are a wonderful person,  _ anyone  _ could be proud of how far you’ve come. Besides,” she smiled a little, reaching out and brushing her fingers through Nero’s hair, “I think that’s incredibly sweet of him to say. 

“Yeah,” Nero laughed a little, “Uncharacteristically.” 

Kyrie settled down next to him, wrapping her arms around him and he pulled her close. “Remember when they first came back,” she asked, closing her eyes, “And we decided he just needed to be loved?” 

“Yeah?” Nero frowned. 

Kyrie sighed, a small smile on her lips, “I think it’s working.” 

* * *

Lady glanced up at the sound of the shop door swinging open behind her, hoping in vain that it would be Dante arriving back home, only to see Vergil arriving—the last person she really wanted to see right now. 

“Oh, uh!” She straightened up from where she leaned over the mini-fridge, pizza slice in hand, “Vergil!” She didn’t dare meet his eyes. Just seeing him again made her feel warm all over. “I came by to mark a couple more blocks on the map—” she gestured to the map pinned up on the wall with darts. “I finished cleaning them up this afternoon, and then I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday so…” she trailed off, gesturing to the fridge with the hand that held the cold slice of pizza. Vergil let out a deep sigh. 

“Don’t eat that garbage,” he said, crossing the room and snatching the pizza from her hand before tossing it in the garbage bin by the desk. 

“Hey!” Lady snapped. 

“I’ll buy you some real food,” Vergil said before she could protest further. “I was planning on going out to get something anyways after I change.” He gestured to his old coat, vest, and pants—all of them splattered in blood. “If you don’t mind waiting we could accompany each other.” 

She wanted to say yes. It was her first inclination. After all, she was starving. And… maybe part of her wanted to sit with him just a little longer. What he was talking about almost sounded like a date, which made her heart quicken. She remembered seeing him in that suit, for the auction, and her cheeks grew hot. She  _ hated _ feeling this way about  _ him  _ of all people, but she couldn’t deny it. Vergil  _ was _ a handsome devil, that much was true. But she knew, deep down, that it was more than that… more than just the way he looked.  _ How infuriating!  _

“Mary?” Vergil interrupted her thoughts, his brow furrowed in almost what could be described as a concerned expression. 

“W-well!” She gasped, “You don’t want me going out with you dressed like this, do you?” She gestured to her own demon hunting outfit. 

Vergil waved his hand, “It doesn’t matter to me at all what you wear,” he shrugged, “But if it bothers you this much, we can stop at your own home before the restaurant.” He turned away, presumably to change into something while Lady stuttered over what to say next. She wanted to refuse, but she also desperately wanted to go with him. When he returned, marching down the stairs in black slacks and a pale blue button-up shirt, she decided instantly that she would go with him. 

Somehow, Vergil looked more casual than she had ever seen. His shirt had one button undone at the collar, so she could actually see his neck. And he had rolled up his sleeves so they were neatly folded at his elbows, revealing arms Lady had never had the pleasure of seeing before. For some reason, just having his sleeves rolled up like that… she bit her lip hard, to keep herself from staring. 

“Are you coming?” Vergil asked. She flushed under his gaze, balling her hands into fists.  _ Get a hold of yourself _ . 

“Yes, I’m starving,” she replied. Vergil held out his hand, and she stared at it for a moment. He let out an exasperated sigh. 

“If we use the Yamato you need to hold on, so you don’t get lost in the void,” he reminded her. 

“Right!” She grasped his hand, cursing the temptation to entwine their fingers together. Vergil yanked the Yamato free from its scabbard, which hung at his side from a belt that Lady only just noticed. 

“Your home… what street is it on?” He asked. 

“Oh if you just open a portal at James Street Square—where that huge fountain is?—it’s just a block from there.” Two slashes through the air and once again she watched in awe as a portal bloomed into existence, the red and blue glow casting strange shadows on Vergil’s face. She flushed as Vergil caught her eye.  _ I have to stop staring! _

From exiting the portal, despite her dizziness, Lady led them both down the block to her little apartment. She quickly unlocked the door with shaking hands, “I’ll just be a few minutes,” she said. 

“I’ll wait here,” Vergil huffed, leaning against the wall by her door. She stared at him for one moment longer as he crossed his arms, muscles taut. And then she shook herself out of her reverie and turned quickly into her living room, shutting the door hard behind her. 

_ What is the world coming to?  _ For some reason, anticipation of what might happen at this outing was making her anxious. She took as fast a shower as she could muster, drying her hair as she rushed to her closet.  _ What to wear, what to wear?  _ Vergil had said she could wear whatever, but he had been dressed nicely, in business casual anyways. She should find something to match. Lady hadn’t been on many dates, but this had always been the trickiest part--finding the right thing to wear. For some reason though, this was bothering her more than it usually did, as if picking the wrong thing would result in terrible consequences. 

_ Not the green dress, not the purple…  _ She paused, eyeing the deep blue dress that her hand drifted over. It had been a while since she’d worn this one… it was a simple cocktail dress, perfect for business casual with a light cardigan and nylons. Plus… she wondered if Vergil’s favorite color was blue.  _ Why does it matter?! This isn’t a date, Lady!  _ All he did was ask if she wanted real food, and offered to pay! Why was her mind insistent on making something out of nothing!

“Sorry for the wait,” Lady stepped out of the apartment, locking the door behind her. Vergil straightened, gripping the Yamato, when he glanced over to her he paused, and for  _ one moment _ she thought she saw a flush rise in his cheeks. 

“It’s fine,” he said, glancing away quickly, taking in a deep breath and holding out his hand once more.  _ Right. The portal.  _ She gently took his hand, it was warm in hers. He pulled her through the portal, and they appeared just outside a little cafe that she was familiar with, only a few blocks from her home. It was a quaint place, she had ordered macarons from here before, but had never sat down for food. Vergil turned, satisfied. 

“There’s good food here,” he said, and he didn’t move to let go of her hand, much to her shock. “Come on. I’m sure we’ll be able to find a nice table.” He pulled her close behind him until they were in the little restaurant and found a place to sit. It was a casual place, with little menus. Vergil pulled out Lady’s chair, which was another thing she hadn’t been expecting at all, “Order whatever you’d like.”

“I’ve never been here for anything besides macaroons,” she admitted, picking up the little paper menu. 

Vergil sighed, grasping his own and leaning back in his chair, tutting, “You ought to take better care of yourself, Mary.” 

“Are you implying that you think all I eat are macaroons?” She huffed. 

“Pizza isn’t a worthwhile meal either,” Vergil replied flatly. 

“You  _ just _ got back from hell and you’re already a food snob,” Lady said, rolling her eyes, “Have you even  _ tried _ pizza? Or are you just hating on it because Dante likes it?” 

Vergil wasn’t expecting that, she could see it in the way his eyes widened, and he stumbled over his next words. “Of… of course I’ve tried it!” He spluttered, “I found it unsatisfactory.” 

Lady took a deep breath, pressing her hands together and leaning across the table with a conspiratorial smile. “You’ve never had pizza… have you, Vergil?” 

She saw the truth in his eyes before he could even respond, and she jumped to her feet, reaching out and grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the cafe. 

“Unhand me!” He snapped, “Where in the world are you dragging me to, woman?!” She turned, looking at him over her shoulder as she pulled them along, entwining their fingers together.

“Dante always gets the cheapest pizza,” she scoffed, “but I  _ know _ a place. Authentic Italian! You’ll love it! I promise.” She knew she was risking him going off on his own, ridiculing her and abandoning her in anger, but the faint flush across his nose and cheeks said otherwise, his hand tightening in hers. She felt a thrill of excitement rise up in her as she led him quickly down the street to the little Italian restaurant that she had been to more than a few times. The owners were an older Italian couple that she had helped once on a job, and since then she was always welcome for food and good conversation. She could always expect a greeting when she arrived, but she hadn’t quite prepared herself for this one. 

“Oh! Maria!” Sofia gasped, dropping several menus and rushing over to the door to take Lady’s free hand in hers. “It has been  _ so _ long since you’ve visited us!” Lady felt Vergil tense beside her as the older woman patted Lady’s hand and turned her attention to Vergil. Lady instantly saw an excited shine touch the woman’s eyes.  _ Uh oh.  _ “Oh! Is this that gentleman you’ve brought before? Dante?” 

“No, no!” Lady gasped, waving her hand. “Sofia, this is Dante’s twin brother: Vergil. Vergil, this is a friend of mine, Sofia.” 

“It’s a pleasure,” Vergil said. 

“My!” Sofia gasped, “You  _ do _ look a lot like that other man.” 

“Yes,” Vergil said flatly, “Unfortunately, we’re  _ twins _ .” 

Lady squeezed his hand, offering him a frown—hoping it would at least remind him to be nice. “We’ll take a table for two!” she said to Sofia, smiling nervously. 

“Of course! Right this way, dear.” 

The old woman set before them two menus, full of food that Lady was very familiar with. “What can I get you to drink?” she asked, a beaming smile on her lips. 

“Water,” Vergil said shortly. Lady wanted to kick him under the table. 

“I’ll have a bottle of chianti, please,” Lady said. Wine wasn’t her  _ favorite,  _ but she liked it well enough, and what was an Italian meal without some good Italian wine? 

“Alright, wonderful! I’ll be right back with your drinks,” Sofia nodded and turned away from their table. Vergil busied himself with the menu, and Lady pretended to look at hers, even though she already knew what she wanted to order. She used the time to admire him over the top of the little booklet in her hands. What was it about him dressing differently that made desire ignite within her? 

“You’ve brought Dante here before?” Vergil asked suddenly, pulling them both out of silence. The words came out like a growl, almost through his teeth. 

“I mean… yeah,” Lady shrugged, “After a job one day.” Then he leaned closer, tapping his shoe with hers under the table. “Why?” she grinned, “Does that  _ bother _ you? Are you jealous?” 

“Absolutely not,” Vergil huffed, looking back down at his menu, “ _ Maria _ .” Lady’s eyes widened, and she felt a flush creep up her neck. 

“Hey!” She gasped, tapping his leg under the table with the tip of her shoe. Just then, Sofia returned with a bottle of chianti. She turned over Lady’s glass and poured a bit in. 

“Let me know how you like it, dear.” 

Lady raised her glass, just as Sofia and Luca had taught her, swirled the contents, examining the color. Then she breathed in the fragrance before taking a sip. “Excellent,” she said. She could feel Vergil’s gaze on her as he watched her curiously. 

“Good! Are you both ready to order?” 

Lady glanced across the table at Vergil who said nothing and she sighed. “I think we need a few extra minutes.”

“Of course!” Sofia hesitated, clasping her wrinkled hands together. “I have to say, you two make a lovely couple!” 

Lady met Vergil’s eyes and felt her cheeks go hot. “Oh, that’s not—”

“Oh no!” Sofia gasped, addressing Vergil, “I forgot your water. I’ll be right back!” 

Lady cursed internally, she knew Sofia and Luca would be asking about it later now—how she had met Vergil, who he was, when they would be getting married. It was always that question,  _ “When will you get married, Maria?”  _ She had tried her best to convince the elderly couple, who were more like her parents than anything, that she wasn’t really interested in marriage or being in a relationship. She thought she had been making some progress on that front, but now it would be nigh impossible. 

What was strange was that when Lady had brought Dante here after a job, Sofia had not said anything about them being a couple. What was it about Vergil that had made her say such a thing? Had she been watching… had she caught Lady staring? 

Once they had ordered their food, Lady felt a lot better. Vergil finally tried pizza and much to his irritation she, at last, got him to admit that it was actually pretty good. “If you tell Dante--” 

“Relax, relax,” Lady laughed, “I won’t be telling Dante.” They stood at the doors of the restaurant. Outside it was clear and warm, despite the quickly approaching sunset. 

“You’re probably tired,” Vergil said, “I’ll take you home.” He reached for the Yamato, but Lady reached out and rested her hand on his. 

“Let’s walk. It’s not far.” 

Vergil hesitated, “Very well,” he said at last. “You’ll have to lead the way.” 

For a while, they walked in silence. Then Lady finally spoke, trying not to show him her smile, “Thank you for inviting me to lunch,” she said. 

Vergil was silent, letting out a deep sigh, as if trying to decide what to say, “I’m glad you could accompany me,” he said at last, “And… glad you convinced me to try pizza.” 

“Glad? Vergil? That’s something you don’t hear every day,” she teased. He was quiet again, and Lady stopped walking about a block from her apartment, she turned to face him. “What’s wrong, Vergil?” 

“The couple at the restaurant, they called you  _ Maria _ ,” he said. 

“Yes,” Lady chuckled a little, rolling her eyes. “Sofia and Luca, I’ve known them for years and years, since I helped them out… it was one of my first jobs after Temen-ni-gru.” She hesitated. “But they knew me…  _ before. _ ” 

Vergil’s eyes widened in understanding. “They knew you as Mary… just as I did.” 

“Yes,” she nodded. “I didn’t tell them the whole truth about my father and mother,” she whispered, “But I told them enough. They understood I didn’t want to be called Mary anymore. But they still stuck with my little nickname. Maria.” 

“Mary…” Vergil said, unable to look her in the eyes. “Do you…. Would you prefer… I didn’t call you that?” 

She had wondered if he would ever ask her that. But now that he finally did, she wasn’t sure… The way Vergil said her name made her feel warm and soft. She wasn’t really sure she wanted to let go of that. It had been a  _ long _ time since she liked the sound of the name Mary on someone’s lips. 

“If it’s you,” she said, “I don’t mind.” 

Vergil almost smirked, “Good,” and then he kept walking as if he had said nothing at all out of the ordinary. She followed after him until they were at last on the steps of her apartment. And she realized as she leaned against the doorframe, fishing for her keys in her little purse, that she didn’t want him to leave. 

Vergil turned, without so much as a word, flicking the Yamato out of its sheath, but before he could leave, Lady reached out and took his arm. She was standing just a couple steps above him, and when Vergil glanced up at her, steel-blue eyes searching her for answers, she offered him a soft smile, “I hope we can do this again sometime.” And, she wasn’t sure what came over her, but she leaned over and brushed a soft kiss to his cheek, before quickly spinning around to hide her blush and unlock her door as fast as possible. “S-see you…!” she gasped, as a hurried goodbye, and quickly slipped into her apartment, shutting the door hard on her embarrassment. 

* * *

When Vergil came home, he pushed open the door—past the “Family Business” sign—to find his brother sitting at his desk, waiting for him. 

“Hey,” Dante said, without glancing up. “I thought for sure you’d be done with your job by now…” he trailed off when he glanced up to see his brother in his everyday clothes. “Huh…. where’d you go?” 

“Out, for lunch,” Vergil explained. 

“Right…” Dante frowned. “Where’d you go?” 

Vergil hesitated. He thought about lying, but what would the point be in that. He had already learned recently that honesty was better in all situations. He sighed, “An Italian place.” 

Dante narrowed his eyes, and Vergil instantly knew his brother was suspicious. “Say!” Dante grinned, “I saw Lady marked off a few blocks on the map. Did she come by while you were here?” 

“Yes,” Vergil snapped, “In fact, I went with her to lunch.”  _ Two acquaintances… eating lunch together.  _

Dante got the most annoying grin on his face. “Like a  _ date _ ?” He smirked. 

“No, of course not.” Vergil scoffed, but Dante was on a roll.

“Did you stare into each other’s eyes?” He snickered, clasping his hands together, “Did she kiss you goodbye?”

Mary’s kiss to his cheek came to Vergil’s mind and he tried  _ desperately _ to hide how flustered it made him. “Of course not!” He snapped. “We were two acquaintances eating lunch together. That’s all.” 

“Uh-huh…” Dante did  _ not _ seem convinced. “Whatever you say, bro.” 

_ Did she kiss you goodbye?  _ Did something like that make an outing a date? He gritted his teeth. Why was this so confusing?! 

Vergil hated asking anyone for help, but it seemed like this situation was getting more and more complicated. He knew only one person who seemed to be in a good, solid relationship. His son. And Nero  _ had _ given him advice about this before, about having to apologize. Maybe he could offer advice on something like this, as annoying as the thought was.  _ Perhaps it’s time for me to be honest with Nero… to ask for….  _ he shuddered ... _ help.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are catching up to me quickly! I might be taking a break when Thanksgiving (US) comes around in a couple of weeks. The next two chapters are kind of short, but trust me... they're worth it! <3 Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey, Vergil,” Nero glanced up from where he sat at the dining room table. His sword was laying in front of him, little parts all around. It looked like perhaps the young man was cleaning the strange contraption. Vergil had  _ never _ understood why Nero insisted on using such a noisy, ungraceful weapon. 

“Where are the children?” Vergil queried, anxiously leaning against the chair next to his son. 

“Relax,” Nero chuckled, “They’re at school. What’s up? You… kinda appeared out of the blue.”

“I apologize for not requesting to see you first,” Vergil sighed, “It’s a rather… urgent matter.”

“Oh,” Nero glanced up, brow furrowing. “A job?”

“No, nothing like that. Worse.” 

“Geez, what did you two do this time?” Nero frantically returned to putting his weapon back together. 

“No, Nero,” Vergil said, clearly already failing at this. “I just need to ask… something…”

“Oh,” Nero frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s… well… you and Kyrie are close,” Vergil stated.

“Uh...huh…” Nero frowned, “And…?’

“How would you… er… that is… what if I… desired to also be close… with someone…?” 

Nero stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment. “First off, don’t say it like that. Jesus. Second off, uh… are you saying you want to be with someone the same way I’m with Kyrie?” 

Vergil gritted his teeth. “No… Perhaps...” 

“Would you just spit it out?” Nero snapped, “Nobody has time for your classic ‘dancing around the truth’ move because you’re too embarrassed to  _ say _ something—”

“I am absolutely  _ not _ embarrassed,” Vergil snarled, “I have  _ strange _ feelings for someone and I would like to be rid of them. Tell me  _ how _ .” Another long and  _ annoying  _ silence before Nero laughed. 

“You can’t get rid of feelings, Vergil,” he said, leaning back over his weapon. 

“Explain.” 

“You think I  _ chose _ to fall in love with Kyrie?” Nero frowned. “No. Things like that sometimes just happen. We can’t control them. But usually…” he smiled in the direction of the kitchen where Vergil could hear Kyrie humming away as she baked something. “Usually it’s a good thing. A  _ wonderful _ thing, really. You have feelings for Lady, don’t you?” 

Vergil felt his chest go tight and his stomach twist into knots. “No… don’t be preposterous.” 

“Don’t be a  _ liar _ ,” Nero smirked, “I can see it in you when you lie. Besides. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

Was it really that obvious? Did everyone know then?! How shameful that Mary made his emotions surface  _ so _ easily! He thought of what Dante had said the night before and he felt like he could sink into the ground and disappear.  _ “Like a date? … Did she kiss you goodbye?”  _ Did even Dante know about these feelings?! How disgusting! He wanted to shrivel up in mortification. Even his son saw it.  _ Horrible!  _

But… there was something about Nero’s words that rang true. Feelings like this… wonderful? Yes… he supposed Nero was right. After all, he never felt so happy as when he was with Mary just the other day. Part of him had wanted to stay with her forever. To keep her near to him. He was warm when he was with her, her smile made his heart race. It was exhausting. But it was wonderful. Maybe it was wrong to try and deny those feelings. 

“How… how do I tell her?” Vergil asked. 

Nero glanced up, an aggravating smile on his face. “Are you asking  _ me _ for dating advice?”

“Absolutely not.” 

But Nero continued, “Well, first off, you need to be honest with her. Completely honest. Starting any relationship out with lies isn’t a good plan  _ ever _ . Just tell her how you feel when you’re around her.” 

“Nauseous?”

“Okay, maybe not that part,” Nero groaned, “That’s called anxiety. And it’s happening because you’re nervous. I meant tell her how you feel in your heart.” 

“Like I’m going to burst into thousands of pieces.”

“No, like—”

“Like she’s the only thing that matters.”

“That’s more like it,” Nero nodded. 

Vergil hesitated, turning away from his son, and trying to look at anything else. This had been a bad idea. He was certain that Nero of all people knew what to do, but really things like this should stay private… right? “When I crafted her apology letter,” Vergil finally said, “I wrote a piece where I explained my true feelings.” 

“Ah,” Nero nodded, “So  _ that _ was the part you didn’t read.”

Vergil huffed, “How could she ask me to say it out loud?”

“Honestly, Vergil, I think that’s going to be the key here.  _ Whatever _ you do, you need to tell her how you feel with your voice in your own words.” 

Vergil gritted his teeth, “Why?”

“Clearly she values direct communication. It would be more meaningful that way, and she’d be more likely to see you’re being honest. She might doubt the truthfulness of something if you just write it out.” 

Vergil remembered her words when she asked him to read that letter not so long ago.  _ “If you can’t speak them aloud, then do you really mean them?”  _ Maybe Nero was onto something here. Still, it filled Vergil with panic. He had never imagined that returning  _ home _ like this with Dante would result in awful social situations such as these. He wasn’t meant for situations like this! The thought of talking to someone about his emotions made him feel so uneasy. And yet, the thought of Mary… well, the thought of knowing her better and more intimately… the thought of calling her his own… was there a chance?! If he confronted his own hate of social conversation, could he grasp that chance? He knew, truthfully, that there was only one way to find out. 

“Very well,” he said, at last, taking in a deep breath, “I shall attempt to… speak my feelings aloud. But… how… and where?”

“Listen,” Nero groaned, “It’s not something you should overthink. It should be a place and a time that feels right to you. But, if you really want to  _ plan _ something, then maybe just call her and ask her to meet you somewhere nice, or somewhere that’s important to you.” 

Vergil nodded slowly, an idea forming in his mind. “Yes,” he said, and then he turned towards his son once more. “Thank you, Nero.” 

“Yeah, uh… anytime I guess.” Nero shrugged, returning to his work. “Except um… probably not because do I really want to know every detail of my father’s love life…? Ehh…” 

“I assure you,” Vergil grimaced, drawing the Yamato so he might leave, “This  _ will _ be the last you hear of it. Oh,” He paused, and raised the weapon to Nero’s throat, “If you speak of this to  _ anyone _ —”

“Relax. I’m not one to spill secrets.” Nero shrugged, “Besides,  _ trust me _ on this one. This is just as embarrassing for me as it is for you.”

“I’m not embarrassed.” Vergil spun around and sliced the air twice, stepping through before he could hear Nero’s retort. 

He stepped into the shop once more with a deep sigh of relief. How  _ shameful _ . But, as awkward as it had been, it was true that Nero gave good advice. If Vergil wanted to address these feelings… he had to tell Mary the truth. And, well, if she didn’t feel the same way then that was that. It’d be over and he could finally be relieved, right? Something inside him said that that wasn’t quite true. A part of him that hoped that...maybe Mary would feel the same. How pathetic. 

_ And yet you’re truly considering going through with this…  _

He took a deep breath, it looked like Dante wasn’t home yet, that was good. That meant he had at least a little privacy to call her. There was one small problem, he realized, as he approached the phone on Dante’s desk. Even if he could figure out how to use the strange contraption, he had no idea what numbers to dial to reach Mary. Surely Dante had a note or something in his desk that would have her phone number on it… Vergil yanked open the first drawer and immediately gave up in dismay. There was no way his brother was organized enough to keep a phone book, or… anything important for that matter. His drawers were a catastrophe of envelopes, bills most likely, and trash. 

Vergil took in a  _ deep _ breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.  _ Very well. This leaves only one option.  _ And he wasn’t sure he liked the idea very much. He left Dante’s desk, standing in the middle of the room, and unsheathed the Yamato, slicing through the air once and then twice. The portal bloomed before him and he took a deep breath, stepping through to face Mary’s front door. 

_ This is a bad idea, Vergil.  _ He raised his fist, and knocked three times. Maybe she wasn’t even home. But before he could finish the thought, the door swung open, and mismatched eyes stared out at him. Mary blinked and then swung the door open farther. “Vergil? What are you doing here?” 

“I need your phone number,” Vergil said.” 

“W-what?” 

“Your phone number, I don’t have it.”

“I think Dante has it memorized,” Mary said.  _ Again with Dante and Mary’s friendship _ . Vergil seethed inwardly. He despised that. 

“Well,  _ I’ll _ have it memorized as well, once you relay it to me.” 

“Here,” Mary said, “Wait just a moment, I’ll write it down for you.” She returned just half a moment later with a little slip of paper. The teasing smile on her lips made Vergil falter. “Call me  _ anytime _ ,” she winked, handing him the paper. 

“Thank you,” Vergil replied, and then he turned, without so much another word. 

“Hey! Did you want to come in for some coffee?” 

“No, I have a very important thing I must do,” he said, and then he hurried down the steps, away from her home, the little paper clutched in his hand. Two blocks down there was a payphone. The feel of the booth was familiar, the way the phone tucked under his chin. He dug in his pocket for change he knew was there—that was familiar too—and he held up the piece of paper, carefully dialing the number, and listening to the dialing tone as he waited for her to pick up, leaning against the side of the payphone. Maybe this was foolish, but he didn’t want to risk Dante being home when he returned. He wanted to make this call in private. 

_ Click _ . “Hello?” 

“Mary,” he sighed, relieved. 

“Tch. Vergil? Are you calling me from a payphone?”

“I have to ask you something… important.” He said, grasping the cord of the phone and twisting it around his thumb. “Would you meet me at the house, tomorrow?” 

She laughed a little, not an unwelcome sound. Her laugh was nice, and it made him feel warm. “Why didn’t you just ask this important question when you were here?” 

“No, it has to be somewhere important,” Vergil said. 

There was an intake of breath, and then Mary said, “Alright then. I’ll meet you there just before noon, how does that sound?”

"Yes,” Vergil whispered, “I’ll be waiting for you.” And then he set the phone back on its cradle.  _ How strange.  _ Some form of excitement filled him with energy. Maybe Nero had been more right than Vergil originally admitted. “ _ Usually it’s a good thing. A wonderful thing, really.”  _ It was true… he felt more  _ powerful _ falling in love with this woman than he ever had before. He scoffed at the thought.  _ What an idiotic, foolish thing _ , _ this “love.”  _


	13. Chapter 13

Lady stepped up the familiar path to the manor, pausing at the top of the hill to catch her breath. Beyond mangled gates she could see the shattered house, but Vergil was nowhere in sight. She was early, sure, but she wasn’t  _ that  _ early. So he had to be around here somewhere. She took in a deep breath of the cool, fresh air and made her way towards the house. She could hear rummaging somewhere in the house, so she stepped up onto the foundation, and into the old parlor. The faded painting was still crooked on the wall. She turned, glancing down the hall leading into the side of the house that was still intact. 

At the end of the hall was a rather large kitchen, connected by an open doorway to a dining room. Since these rooms were the furthest away from the open part of the house, they were the most well-off, though leaves and other things had been blown in due to the wind. Lady wondered if animals had ever taken shelter in here as well. There was plenty of dirt and shattered china. One of the windows in the dining room was broken, the others appeared to be cracked. Vergil was leaning into a cupboard under the counter, digging for something. 

“Vergil…?” Lady frowned. 

The eldest of the twins stiffened, and then jumped to his feet, cheeks flushed, hair disheveled. He straightened his pale blue button-up and shoved one hand into the pocket of his slacks. “Mary.” 

The way he said her name made her feel light, and she smiled. “What are you looking for?” 

“Well… this is rather shameful, but… my mother had a stoneware pan she would make casseroles in when we were little…” He bit his lip, “I remember… it was white with blue roses printed along the sides. She would set it on the table when we ate together. I was hoping… it survived, but… maybe it’s with the rest of the shattered dishes, over there.” He gestured lamely to where some shattered cups and plates were scattered across the room. 

“Don’t say things like that, it’s not shameful,” Lady huffed. “I think it’s admirable that you want to find something that reminds you of your mother. It’s understandable that you miss her.” She hesitated, “I… miss my mother as well.” 

Vergil frowned, and before Lady knew what he was doing, the blue devil had reached out to take her hand in his, entwining their fingers together. Her heart skipped a beat, staring up into his pale blue eyes, which had gone so soft as he looked down at her. 

“My apologies,” he whispered, “I know… you miss your mother too. If you ever want to talk about it…” 

She wanted to tease him, for taking her hand so easily. But she was afraid that if she did he might let go and never attempt to take it again. And this was nice. His hand was warm in hers, and for a moment she wondered what it might be like to be wrapped in his whole embrace, to be held close against his chest, to hear his steady, gentle heartbeat, to feel the whisper of his breath against her hair.  _ “Mary.”  _ And she felt her whole face going hot at just the thought. 

“Vergil,” she murmured, “What did you want to talk to me about?” 

He hesitated, and then let go of her hand, making her feel more alone than ever. “I lied to you.” He said.

“What?” 

“When I read you my apology letter,” he dug in his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. She knew instantly it was the letter he wrote not so long ago, “I didn’t read the whole thing.”

“What are you talking about?” Lady said. 

“I made a mistake,” he said. “And I want to fix it now. You said back then if I don’t say it aloud I can’t really mean it. I was a fool, I was a coward. But I’ve been made to realize that if I don’t tell you how I truly feel I might come to have regrets... Please…” he gently handed her the paper. She began to protest, but he raised his hand, “I don’t need a piece of paper to tell you what I feel.” 

She clutched the paper in both hands, eyes wide, her heart pounding.  _ This… has to be a dream. This can’t be real.  _ Vergil, the man she had known since Temen-ni-gru… admitting his feelings? Talking about them?! It seemed utterly preposterous. Before she could say anything he began to speak. 

“V, you should know, was… my human half.” There was ice in his eyes as he spoke, a coolness, as if he were trying to distance himself from what he was about to say, “I remember… every touch you shared with him… with…  _ me _ .” She flushed, glancing away, and Vergil shook his head, “The truth is, I never would have been brave enough to address these emotions. But V  _ was _ . If I had been whole in those moments, I would have desired nothing more than to do the same. I have struggled with these feelings as of late. I thought that distancing myself from these emotions would be better for all of us. But there’s no use in it. You are all I can think about. You’ve utterly  _ consumed _ me, Mary. I  _ want _ you.” His lidded eyes, the way he stood over her, it made her feel hot but she trembled at the same time. Desire grew hungry within her. But Vergil’s expression softened, and his voice grew warmer. “I… have feelings for you. Just like V. I  _ always _ have. Please say something, anyth—” 

Before he could finish, she reached out and grasped his collar, and pulled him down into a desperate kiss. Maybe it was the wrong move with Vergil, son of Sparda. The devil tensed at her touch, but it only took half a moment for him to relax and he melted against her, kissing her deeply in return, brushing his fingers through her hair with one hand and drawing her closer by the hip with the other. 

He pushed her back against the counter, firmly cupping her cheek and tilting his head to kiss her again, deeper, and with more desperation. Kissing Vergil was different from kissing V. His lips were fuller, warmer and his hands stronger, his presence more demanding. He knew what he wanted, and he would stop at nothing until he had it. He hissed in protest when she pulled away, nipping her lower lip, hand still warm against her jaw. 

“Look what you’ve done to me, woman,” he growled, pale blue eyes narrowed. “I am undone. I am irrevocably yours.” 

“Is that such a bad thing?” She smiled, resting her hands on his chest. She felt lightheaded. She couldn’t imagine this was more than just a dream. A very, very good dream. 

“Do it again,” he demanded. 

“Do what?” She said, daring to rest her arm over his shoulder and thread her fingers through his hair, it was curled at the ends, and she wondered if he let it down if it would be curly all over. 

He looked irritated, his cheeks flushed, his eyes narrowed, “Kiss me.” 

“What do you say?” She said, tightening her grip on his silver locks. Vergil’s jaw tensed, and for a moment she thought he might leave her embrace. But instead, his expression softened, and he let out a soft sigh that filled her with yearning. 

“Mary, kiss me,  _ please _ .” That pleading look in his eyes… how could she say no? She pulled him close so she could kiss his lips once more. This kiss was shorter, Vergil pulled away, studying her for a moment. 

“What now?” She asked, but he turned away wordlessly, and drew the Yamato, slicing a portal into the air. “Where are you going?” 

He turned, sheathing the sword, and holding out his hand, “Somewhere warmer, where we can talk.” 

* * *

The shop  _ was _ warmer than the manor. And though Vergil didn’t really mind either way, he felt a little comforted by the feeling of warmth and the feeling of Mary’s hand in his. She did not hesitate, leading him towards the couch on the other side of Dante’s desk. There she dropped down against the cushions with a sigh, pulling him down to do the same. 

“What are we?” She asked, pressing his hand between both of hers, pretending to be focused on their hands, pretending not to care. 

Vergil didn’t know the answer to the question. He didn’t know anything about human… labels or nicknames. He had no desire to change what he called Mary, or how they were around each other… well, how they were around each other based on their current encounter. He  _ liked _ this. Liked the way she kissed him, with fervor. The thought elicited excitement within him like a spark bursting into a flame. He wanted to kiss her again. 

“When I returned from lunch with you, Dante asked me if it was a date. He was aggravating, really.” Vergil said.

“Sounds like Dante.” 

“I don’t know what we are,” Vergil said, “I am woefully unaware of human… terms, but… I  _ would _ like it if you would accompany me on a  _ real _ … ‘date.’” 

Mary laughed, and he knew she was about to tease him but he didn’t mind. “Are you asking me out?”

“It’s a yes or no,” Vergil huffed, “Will you accompany me to dinner?” 

“Hmm…” Mary leaned close, tilting her head, “Maybe if I get to do this again.” She moved to kiss him but Vergil shied away, frowning.

“You’ve gotten very comfortable with touching me.”

“That’s rich coming from the man who just said that he  _ wants me. _ ”

“Do you think I was being dishonest with you?” Vergil scoffed. 

“Were you?”

“No.” 

“Prove i—”

He kissed away the last of her words, silencing her with his mouth. Fine, if she wanted to play a game, he’d play. He’d show her he wanted every part of her, he wanted to call her ‘mine.’ Hungry kisses against her lips, but he wanted more. He cupped her cheek, pulling away to look at her through narrowed eyes, “I’ll show  _ you  _ desire,” he hissed. 

“You say that like I'm losing,” Mary mumbled, as he tilted his head to kiss her neck, teeth grazing her sensitive skin. Her breath hitched, and she raised her arm to thread her fingers through his hair, tightening her grip on his white locks. He couldn’t help but grin in some sort of triumph, pushing her back against the couch, and then leaning over her, hands pressed into the couch on either side of her head, as if he had just won some sort of contest and she was his prize. 

“You’re full of yourself,” Mary huffed. 

“Come with me to dinner,” he demanded, leaning over her. 

“All you had to do was ask,” Mary replied, sitting up just enough to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as he leaned into the kiss, Mary wrapping her arm over his shoulder, the doors of the shop burst open with a  _ bang _ . Vergil pulled away quickly, and Mary sat up, straightening her shirt. 

“Oh, hey,” Dante said, dropping one of his ridiculous devil arms on his desk and running his fingers through his hair which once again was stained red with blood. “What are you two doing here?”

Vergil’s whole face was hot, and despite the relief that his brother  _ hadn’t _ seen them, he was still irritated by the interruption. “Dante!” he growled. “You’re done already?” 

“Pfft. It was easy peasy, you should have been there to see it yourself.” 

Mary hesitated, her own cheeks bright red, “We were just discussing—”

“I want my own home,” Vergil interrupted. Dante froze, eyes wide. 

“You...what?” 

“Right…” Mary frowned, “That’s what we were talking about.” 

“I want my own place to call home,” Vergil said at last. “Where I can sleep in my own bed, in my own room.”

“Come on, Verge,” Dante said almost pleadingly, “You know that bedroom’s practically yours now. I’ve never used it anyway. I always sleep on the couch.” 

“You should sleep in your  _ bed _ , Dante,” Vergil retorted. “Were you raised in a barn?”

“Wouldn’t that mean you were  _ also  _ raised in a barn?”

“Silence, you’re avoiding the topic,” Vergil snapped. “I’ll be searching for my own home starting today.” 

“Righhtt…” Dante frowned. Vergil couldn’t help but notice that his brother  _ did  _ look a little disappointed. And for some reason, just a small, tiny inkling of Vergil felt a little upset as well. Already this place,  _ Devil May Cry _ , had become a home to him. Despite their arguing, Dante had been kind to him and had offered him as much as he needed. But it was time. Still, Vergil could sense the tension between the two of them. 

“Don’t be upset,” he said simply, “You know it would have to come at some point.”

“The last time you left…” Dante trailed off. 

“I’m not leaving for good,” Vergil snapped, “I’ll still work here… with you.” 

“I should go,” Mary frowned, standing. 

“Oh right, Lady, you’re here.” Dante said, suddenly being pulled out of whatever thoughts he had been pondering. 

“Yes, I’m here too. But, I’ll let you two work this out.” 

“Why were you here again, Lady?” Dante frowned. 

“No reason, just checking in on… what we have left to do…” She said, gesturing to the map of the city. “And…” She grimaced, “Bye.” She paused, glancing over at Vergil and meeting his eyes. 

He wanted to reach out and take her hand, to assure her that he’d call her again, that he’d  _ see  _ her again. But with Dante here… She smiled as if she knew what he meant.  _ Don’t worry.  _ Vergil tried to hide his own smile but it was to no avail . Dante glanced back and forth between the two of them, and Vergil knew he was suspicious, but, really, he didn’t care at all. 


	14. Chapter 14

**2 APRIL ~ 6:15 PM**

“Hey, Vergil? Dante? Anyone home?” Nero stepped into the shop, past the little “Now a Family Business” sign. The place was tidier than he remembered. Definitely not Dante’s doing. His father probably had something to do with it. 

He stepped farther into the building. “Dante?!” Seemed like no one was home. He hesitated. He would much prefer to leave this directly in the hands of his father. If Dante found it on his desk first who knew where he’d toss it. But Nero didn’t really have time to stay long. Kyrie had wanted to take the boys shopping for new shoes. 

“Nero?” The door behind him swung open and he turned to see Lady slip in. 

“Hey, Lady,” he frowned, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see if Vergil…” she paused and then cleared her throat, “Vergil and Dante were up for some lunch.” 

Nero frowned, studying her for a moment, and then the realization hit him and he grinned. “Dad talked to you, huh?” 

“Huh?!” Lady said, her whole face turning strawberry red, “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to say anything else,” Nero grinned, “That’s almost as good as a plain answer.”

“Hey!” Lady snapped, “F-forget about that, since when have you ever called him ‘Dad’?!” 

Nero’s eyes widened. _Damn, I let it slip again!_ “Guess we both have our own secrets,” he said. “But, it’s okay. I won’t tell anyone about you and Vergil. But since you’ll be seeing him, maybe you can give him this from me.” He passed her the little book. “Another book I found that he might like, for his library.” 

Lady was quiet, studying the old binding thoughtfully. “Thank you, Nero,” she said, her cheeks still dusted pink, “I’m sure he’ll love it. I’ll let him know it’s from you.” 

“Thanks. I better go, Kyrie and the boys are waiting.” 

He had just about reached the door when Lady stopped him. “Hey, Nero?” 

“Yeah?” He turned, catching her eye. “What’s wrong?” 

“Last night Vergil said something about wanting to find a place of his own and I had a thought, but I don’t know if it’ll work. Can I tell you? I’d like to hear what you think.” 

Nero hesitated and then nodded once, “Alright, fine. Hit me.” 

“I looked it up last night,” Lady said, “The property that the old house is on… the government repossessed it years and years ago, after a fire killed the owner of the property,” she hesitated, “Eva.” 

Nero froze, hands balling into fists. _A fire killed Dante and Vergil’s mother?_ The house did have one side that seemed to suffer fire damage. “Where are you going with this?” He asked. 

“The property is for sale, by the city. They suspect that the whole house, or at least the majority of it, will have to be bulldozed. So it’s for sale _cheap_. I think Vergil should pursue purchasing it back from the city.”

"What? Dante has only ever wanted to leave that place behind—”

“Think about it,” Lady said, “Vergil goes there so often. And when he’s there… well, I’ve never seen him more at peace. It’s almost like he’s finally home.” She smiled a little. “If he starts saving up now… the estate could stay in the family.” 

Nero frowned, crossing his arms, “Well, I suppose it’s not a bad idea,” he smiled. “You’re right about Vergil. I’ve never seen him so calm as when he was showing me his mother’s little study.” 

“I think I’ll suggest—” Before Lady could finish, the doors of the shop _burst_ open. 

“Oh, hey guys,” Dante stepped in, laboriously pulling Vergil along with him. They were both covered in blood, Dante’s coat in tatters, but Vergil was worse. Blood was oozing from a wound in his side, Dante had his arm around Vergil’s waist, and Vergil’s arm was over Dante’s shoulder. But Lady could tell that the blue devil was practically unconscious, his head lolling to the side. 

“What did you two do?” Nero said, completely exasperated, but panic like bile was rising in Lady’s middle. 

“Oh, this? It’s nothing.” 

“Nothing?!” Lady gasped. She knew well enough that the brothers could take a hit. After all, she had seen them fighting at the tower, years and years ago. And since then she had seen plenty of times Dante had been stabbed, jabbed, and poked by a variety of sharp objects. But this, for some reason, filled Lady with panic. Maybe it was the fact that Vergil was practically limp in Dante’s arms. Maybe it was the fact that it was _Vergil_. “Dante, come lay him down here on the couch,” Lady said, gesturing towards the small sofa. Dante let out a dramatic sigh and dragged his brother over to the couch, practically dropping him onto the cushions. Nero was yelling something. More questions about what the hell happened, but Lady was too focused on Vergil to pay much attention to what the two other devil hunters were saying. 

She pressed her hand against his bloody cheek, trying to remain calm. “Vergil…” He was limp, nonresponsive. “Dante, help me get his coat off,” Lady snapped, interrupting whatever the devil hunter and his nephew were shouting about. The man was happy to comply to get away from Nero’s glare. They yanked Vergil’s tattered black coat away from him to reveal an awful sight. 

Lady’s knees nearly buckled, and she had to grasp Nero’s shoulder for support. 

“Holy shit,” Nero hissed, “How the…” 

Vergil’s vest was torn, and jagged, and digging deep into his side was a rusty, ragged piece of metal, bigger than Lady’s forearm. 

“So... there was this explosion…” Dante said, pressing his hands together. 

“Where the hell were you two?!” Nero snapped. 

“Here,” Dante pointed to the map hanging on the wall of the shop, “Near where the Qliphoth stood.” Since the incident with the Qliphoth, which felt like both ages ago and only just yesterday, they had been clearing out the city ever so slowly, advancing closer to the foot of where the Qliphoth once stood. They expected that the greatest concentration of demons would be there. And now they were so close. 

“An explosion…?” Lady frowned, glancing back down at Vergil’s still form. His breathing was shallow, but he didn’t seem to be getting any worse. 

“Apparently a gas leak?” Dante frowned, “And come to find out, those don’t like guns all that much.”

“How can you be so nonchalant?!” Nero said. 

“Hey! I feel really bad, okay? This is a coping mechanism!” 

“What are we going to do?” Lady asked. 

“Welp…” Dante frowned, “Can’t heal up with that thing in there.” He reached out to grasp the piece of metal, cutting himself on the serrated, sharp edges. 

“Dante!” Lady snapped, “What if you—” 

But before she could finish expressing her concern, Dante ripped the metal out of Vergil’s side and tossed it towards the other side of the room. There was more blood, soaking into the couch and trickling down to the floor. But the flow was lessening. 

“He’ll probably be out for a while,” Nero explained, his brow furrowed. “But he should be alright now.” 

“I’ll try and clean him up a little, so he’s more comfortable,” Lady offered, turning to glare at Dante who had since dropped down into the chair behind his desk, “since his brother doesn’t seem to care at all.” 

Dante actually looked hurt, and Lady wondered if the biting remark had been too much. “I’ll go get towels,” he said, rising to his feet. 

“And a blanket and pillow!” Lady called after him as he marched upstairs. 

“Hey,” Nero said, “Don’t be too hard on him. You know as well as we do that Vergil is going to be fine.” 

She nodded. She _did_ know, but she still felt sick to her stomach with anxiety. How annoying. Since when did she worry about either of these two idiots? 

“You’ve got this, right?” Nero frowned, “Kyrie and the boys are waiting…” 

“Yeah,” Lady nodded. 

“I’ll check in again tomorrow.” 

It didn’t take long for Lady and Dante to clean up most of the blood, including the blood that was soaking into Vergil’s vest, and coagulating against his chest, and in the grooves of his belt. Lady could see once they pulled his awfully dirty vest off, that the terrible jagged wound left by the metal was already sealing shut. She let out a sigh of relief once it closed at last. Dante draped the blanket he’d brought over his brother, and then propped his head up with a pillow. By the time they were done, it was late. 

“You staying, Lady?” Dante asked. Lady shook her head. 

“I’ll stay for a few minutes, but I should get home.” 

“Alright,” Dante pulled something wrapped in tinfoil from the fridge, opening it and devouring the cold pizza in a few enormous bites. “Plenty of pizza in the fridge,” he said, “I’m going to go take a shower and crash. It’s been a crazy day.” He ran his fingers through his red-tinted hair and then tromped up the stairs. Lady watched him go and then turned her attention back to Vergil. 

His breathing had evened out since the wound had sealed and vanished. And he looked almost peaceful, fast asleep on the couch. Lady felt a little embarrassed to have been so worried about him. Nero had been right. Why had she panicked like that? Maybe it was that one moment where she thought… perhaps she had only just truly met him to lose him like this. It was a fear of hers, to have her dreams come true and then to have them ripped from her hands, pulled out of reach. Her father had done that to her when he turned her world upside down the day he murdered her mother. If anything were to happen to Vergil… and only so short a time after they were finally honest with each other… she didn’t know what she’d do. 

She kneeled beside him, resting her arms against the couch cushions and leaning her head against his chest, closing her eyes and listening to the steady beat of his heart. Just for a few minutes… 

* * *

When Vergil woke it was quiet, the sun just rising, casting warped shadows through the dirty shop windows. He realized, as his senses slowly returned to him and he blinked away sleep, that he was laying on the couch in the shop, a blanket tossed over him, and that someone was holding his hand. She was fast asleep, resting her head against him. _Perfect. Now I’m trapped._ But when he glanced up to look at her face, he couldn’t say he minded at all. She was so beautiful, even more so when she was this peaceful. There was something calming about it. He couldn’t quite place it. 

He squeezed her hand and she stirred. _Now I’ve ruined it_. He cursed himself. But the way her eyes fluttered open—sleepy, vulnerable with him, her lips turning up into a smile—it made him feel comforted, at home… 

“Good morning, Mary.” 

“Vergil,” she sighed, “You’re alright.” 

He scoffed, “What did you expect? Something that small to end me? Do you truly underestimate my power that much?” 

“Of course,” Mary laughed, “I should have known better.”

“Why are you here?” He asked bluntly. 

“Well,” Mary sat up, and he immediately missed her warmth. “I didn’t _mean_ to pass out while I was making sure you weren’t _dying_.” he could sense the irritation in her voice and he let out a sigh. 

“My apologies… I am… quite glad you stayed.”

“Well,” she huffed, “Since I _am_ here, I have something to tell you.” 

“What’s that?” Vergil frowned, sitting up himself, groaning at how tight his muscles were and how sore he was. 

“You said you wanted your own places, Vergil,” Mary said, “I have an idea. The manor.” 

“What?” Vergil frowned, “What do you mean?” 

“The manor! It’s owned by the city now, but you could buy it back!” She said, “Because the house isn’t livable right _now_ it would be a good price, and then you can save up money to renovate, to rebuild your home! I told Nero and he thought—” She cut herself off, seeing the expression change on Vergil’s face. “What? You don’t like it?” 

“No… it’s perfect,” he said, reaching out and cupping her cheek, “You are perfectly _brilliant_.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, completely stunning her. Then he frowned, “I suppose that means I’ll be saving up money… but with Dante…” 

“It’s okay,” Lady grinned, straightening his vest, frowning at the terrible hole that was still in the leather. “I’ll help. If you take more jobs with me, you’ll be sure to get your fair share of the pay.” She winked. Vergil flushed, and then nodded. 

He wasn’t fond of the idea of taking her help. He felt like this was something he should do on his own. This was his family home, the place his mother and father raised him and his brother. He had so many memories within those walls, walls that he himself had shattered and destroyed in his pathetic search for power. Shouldn’t this be his task? A form of redemption? To restore his father and mother’s home as a way to make up for at least scorning his mother, forgetting her, disrespecting her memory. Atonement. Yet, he knew, deep in his heart that it was something he couldn’t do alone. And here was Mary, the woman he was falling for… the woman who had _saved_ him… offering to help. Perhaps that was a greater honor to his mother—that he accept that help, that he work together with this woman. 

He couldn’t be sure what his mother might say. He wished he had but one more moment with her, to ask her for forgiveness, to hear her even just say his name one more time… But in the secret, deepest part of his heart he hoped that if he were to ever see her again she might say that she had always loved him. What a sad, pathetic thought. He bit his lip. _I will do this… I will rebuild our home… for me and for the memory of my mother._

Mary frowned, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

He nodded, offering her a small smile. “I suppose that means we should make haste. What’s the next assignment? I’m ready.” 


	15. Chapter 15

**_5 May ~ 3:31 PM_ **

“Happy Birthday, kid,” Dante was saying, raising a glass of some sort of alcoholic beverage towards Nero. Vergil groaned. This was awkward and confusing. They were all sitting at a picnic table at a park. Vergil respected his son for choosing an outdoor location for his celebration. It was quiet, and the air was warm, despite yesterday’s rain. Still, in all the years that Vergil hadn’t celebrated a birthday, he had forgotten the customs that came with it. Customs that he had always thought were annoying.

“I hope you don’t do something as equally ridiculous on  _ my _ birthday,” he said to Mary who was sitting beside him. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Mary said, “This is how birthdays are celebrated, Vergil.” She smirked, leaning close to him, “I’m going to buy you a huge cake, and we’re all going to sing for you.” 

He shuddered, “I know you only say that to torment me.”  _ I hope.  _

Under the table she rested her hand on his knee, and Vergil felt his cheeks warm at her touch. “Don’t worry. Your birthday will be nice.” This time her smile was genuine and Vergil couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t deserve this woman. 

“Awww,” Dante said teasingly from across the table, “You two are awfully close.”

“ _ Awww _ ... shut up,” Mary said, sticking her tongue out at him. Vergil offered Dante a smug grin. For some reason, whenever Mary defended him or took his side, Vergil felt like he was on top of the world, even in such silly matters like this one. 

Dante rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. They had come a long, long way. Vergil wondered if several months ago a smug smirk would have been enough for his brother to resort to violence. Kyrie appeared suddenly, followed by her and Nero’s three boys. In her hands was a large sheet cake with frosting flowers and the flowing cursive words:  _ Happy Birthday, Nero _ ! 

She set the cake down in front of her fiance. Lighting the candles carefully, and then beginning to sing. The boys, Dante, Nico, Trish, and Mary all joined in. Vergil listened, trying his best to remember the next lines of the songs. After all, the last time he had heard it had been when he was only eight years old. Between then and now things were all fuzzy. He managed to catch up with the last two lines, singing softly, not daring to look anyone in the eyes. Mary bumped her shoulder against him gently, as if to say he was alright. Then the song ended.

“And many more!” Dante said, raising his glass again. Kyrie held up her little camera and snapped a picture of Nero in front of his cake just before he blew out the candles.

“Let's have cake!” Carlo shouted.

“Alright, alright.” Nero laughed. “One piece. Go get the paper plates. I’ll cut it.”

“Yes!” Kyle said. 

“Hey, da….Vergil, you want some cake?” 

“That would be acceptable, thank you,” Vergil replied. 

“Lady?” 

“Yes, please!” 

“Smile!” Kyrie said as Nero began cutting the cake. He flashed her a grin, knife sunk deep into the frosting, as she snapped another picture. She turned to Dante and he posed, tipping his cowboy hat with a toothy smile. She snapped a picture. 

Vergil wondered why she was taking so many pictures, as beside him Mary took the first bite of her cake, but he didn’t care enough to ask. Probably to keep this moment as a memory. After all, it was the first time they had Nero’s birthday in the actual month he was born. And it was the first birthday that would be celebrated by all of them together. 

“Over here, Vergil, Lady!” Kyrie said, raising the camera again.  _ Oh no.  _ Vergil grimaced, but Mary tapped his shoulder, a sultry smile on her lips as he turned to face her, and before he could stop her, she cupped his cheek, tilting her head and pressing a firm kiss to his lips.  _ Snap _ ! The camera flashed. Vergil felt his whole face go hot. Her lips tasted sweet from the chocolate frosting, and for one fraction of a moment, Vergil allowed his eyes to flutter closed, leaning into her kiss. 

“Oho!” Dante laughed.  _ Moment ruined.  _ Vergil pulled away, embarrassment surrounding him like humid heat on a summer day. What was it about this woman that made him want to indulge? 

Dante had found out about their relationship, at last, about two weeks ago. He had decided Vergil’s frequent outings were suspicious, and followed him one night. A night Vergil happened to be taking Mary to a little cafe for dessert. He had watched them the whole night, saw them kiss goodnight… much to Vergil’s disdain. Vergil had been more open that night than he had been in quite some time, and when they had reached Mary’s apartment… well… He felt his cheeks flush at the thought… Maybe he had been hoping for something a little more than just a kiss goodnight. And the way that Mary had pulled away, hands tight at his shirt, pressing fevered kisses to his neck, made him think that perhaps she felt the same way. But, Dante had interrupted them with some sort of triumphant laugh, as if he had caught them in a crime. And now, weeks later, he still hadn’t shut up about it. 

Mary had told him that when she had told Trish, a couple of weeks before Dante had found out on his own, that the she-devil had raised a brow, hands on her hips, “You said you had  _ news _ . Which implies you have something to tell me that I didn’t already know.” Vergil eyed the blonde warily. She was leaning behind Dante, arm resting across his shoulder, blonde hair down, her free hand on her hip. She offered him a smirk before Nero distracted her with her own slice of cake. She seemed so much like his mother, sometimes it hurt. 

“Vergil… Earth to Vergil.” Dante was waving his hand in front of his brother’s face. “Are you going to eat your cake or can I?” 

“Dante, there’s a whole cake, you can have a second piece,” Nero rolled his eyes. 

“No, it’s fine,” Vergil said, standing up suddenly, “You can eat it. I’m going for a walk.” 

Dante’s eyes widened. “What? Vergil,  _ you’re _ leaving behind chocolate cake?!” 

“Believe it or not, Dante, I’m not as obsessed with trivial things like  _ cake _ as you think I am.” Vergil snapped, “I’ll be back later.” He left them all in stunned silence. 

* * *

“What in the world was that about?!” Lady asked, glaring at Dante. 

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t look at me,” he huffed, “Why does everyone always think it’s my fault?” 

Nero glared, “It usually is.” 

“Maybe he just needs a moment,” Kyrie said, smiling softly, but Lady could see the young woman was tense. She let out a deep sigh. 

“I’ll go after him.”

“Lady, I don’t know if that’s—” 

“It’s fine,” she waved her hand at Dante, “I’ll just see if he wants to talk.” She moved quickly, following after Vergil, down the hill towards the park path. Vergil had long strides, so she had to run to catch up with him. Her immediate instinct was to take his hand in hers, but she knew, with how gloomy he looked, that he would just pull away at the unwelcomed touch. 

“Why are you following me, woman?” He sighed, slowing his pace. 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Lady huffed.

Vergil narrowed his eyes. “I’m fine.” 

“Hey now!” Lady said, teasingly, circling around him to face him. “You don’t have to act all cold and cruel anymore, we’re alone after all.” 

At first, with his glower, she wondered if this time her teasing wasn’t really appreciated, but then he seemed to melt, and he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his embrace, resting his head against her shoulder. The action was so sudden and so unexpected, Lady let out a little yelp, before softening in his arms, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. 

_ What’s this sudden display of affection _ ? She wanted to question, her feet practically lifted off the ground as he held her close. But she didn’t dare question it. Instead, she hummed softly, in content, gently brushing her fingers through his hair, and pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“What’s wrong?” She said at last, still holding him. She felt him tense. 

“It’s been weeks, we haven’t made much progress,” he said, “I think of my mother often…” he pulled away, brushing his hand through his hair and taking in a deep breath, “I dreamed of her last night. That woman--my mother’s double--she reminded me. I’m afraid I’ll fail in this ambition, as I’ve always failed. I won’t be able to honor my mother like she truly deserves.” 

“Vergil,” Lady frowned, gently taking one of his hands and entwining their fingers together. “Your mother is already proud of you! I know for a fact. You have changed and grown so much! And you and Dante getting along? I know she would be so glad to see it. And…” here she frowned up at him indignantly, “What do you mean you haven’t made much progress? The money you’ve saved so far is already an incredible amount. You’ll have enough for a down payment in  _ no time _ !” 

He looked almost surprised, “I thought that what we’d saved so far was just a small sum?” 

“Small?!” Lady laughed, “No! In fact, I have an idea. When we reach halfway… and it won’t be long now! I’ll take you out to dinner again.” She watched in satisfaction as his cheeks flushed. 

“Shouldn’t I be taking  _ you _ to dinner, for your  _ annoying  _ insistence on helping me?” 

“Are you saying you don’t appreciate my help?” Lady huffed, hands on her hips. 

“On the contrary,” Vergil’s cool gaze turned to Lady again, “You are my lifeline. I could not complete this task without you.” 

Lady felt her whole face go hot. She had not been expecting such honesty. “Why Vergil,” she teased, “Is that an  _ emotion  _ you’re revealing right now?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Vergil growled, but then he hesitated, blue eyes softening as he looked at her, “Though… you seem to have that effect on me. Like some sort of witchcraft.” 

Lady laughed at his suspicious expression, “I can assure you, I am nothing but a mere human.”

“I know.” Vergil said. 

Lady scoffed, “Hey, why say it like that?!”

“I only mean that I’ve fallen so far… to be placed under a  _ mere _ human’s spell. Thoughts of you  _ consume _ me, woman. But… perhaps I don’t mind at all.” 

She felt a thrill run through her, but she bit her lip to keep from smiling, “I have a name you know.” 

“I know,” he murmured, leaning close, his brow still furrowed, “ _ Mary _ .” For some reason, just now, the way her name tumbled from his lips made her shiver in anticipation. She reached out, offering him a smirk, and cupped the back of his head, stealing a kiss before he could pull away. He melted against her, pulling her up into his strong arms again, tilting his head and kissing her deeply and slowly, as if he were memorizing every part of her. When she pulled away, he still held her in his arms, glancing up at her through love-stricken eyes, his lips parted. 

“Hey,” she said, cupping his cheek. “Your mother would be proud of how far you’ve come.” 

His face darkened. “You can’t say that for sure.” 

“You’re right,” Lady said, “I can’t, but…  _ I’m _ proud of how far you’ve come.” He glanced up, his blue eyes eager and full of awe. She knew he wouldn’t ask, so she repeated what she said, “I’m proud of you, Vergil. And we’re going to get that house back, okay? I believe in you.” 

He paused, and then slowly set her feet back down on the ground, staring at her in almost… shock? “No one’s ever believed in me before…” he whispered. 

“Well then it’s about time,” Lady said. “Now come on,” she grabbed his hand. “Let's get back to your son’s party before Dante eats all the cake.” She dragged him after her before he could say another word, and when she glanced back he was smiling, and it made warmth bloom in her heart. She hoped that she would see him smile more often with each passing day… 

* * *

**8 MAY ~ 7:30 AM**

“Did you have a pleasant birthday?” Vergil asked, leaning against a lamp post and taking in a deep breath. His son was standing ahead of him, adjusting the loops that his devil breakers hung on at his belt. They were out on patrol together again. So far it was a quiet night. Finally, after so long since the Qliphoth incident, things seemed to be slowing down. 

“Yeah, it was weird celebrating it in May… Usually Kyrie and I celebrated it in July—that was when we first met.” Vergil studied his son for a moment as the young man counted the number of arms he had left hanging on his belt, and then shrugged his shoulder. He admired his son’s courage. Two weeks ago, the young man had asked Kyrie to marry him. Nero had told Vergil first, after he stopped by one night to drop off another set of books he had found (Vergil’s small collection that he kept on his bedside stand was growing quite large). The news had not surprised Vergil in the slightest. 

Kyrie, the copper-haired girl that was Nero’s woman, was the sweetest, kindest soul that Vergil had ever encountered. Since his return, she had been nothing but gentle with him. Whenever she encountered him she offered him something to drink or eat, and always asked if he was comfortable or if she could take his coat. In observing her, Vergil realized that Kyrie treated everyone in this manner. She was one who would sacrifice her own comfort in order to assure that everyone around her was happy. It didn’t take long for Vergil to realize that she was a good match for his son, who was headstrong but loyal. How had he managed to find such a woman  _ and  _ make her his own? 

For some reason, Vergil’s thoughts brought him to Mary. He gritted his teeth. That woman had far too much power over him. The power to bring him to his knees with one glance. He wondered what his younger self would have said, if… facing her in Temen-ni-gru… someone had told him that he would be falling in love with that same foolish girl… “Nero?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How do you…” he cleared his throat, trying to decide whether or not to follow through with his question, “How do you tell Kyrie you care about her?” 

Nero turned to face his father with a smirk, “Are you asking because of Lady?” 

“Of course not!” Vergil spat, “That’s preposterous! I was merely curious.” 

But Nero had already turned back to walking down the old Red Grave street, hands in his pockets. “You can tell someone you love them in lots of different ways,” he said, “by giving them gifts, by doing something for them like a chore they weren’t looking forward to doing, physical affection, spending time with them…  _ and _ …  _ telling them _ . You already know Lady values direct communication. Why not just tell her how you feel?” 

Vergil scoffed, “Impossible.” Then he trailed off, pausing beside a stop sign, “Besides, it’s quite likely this is only temporary.” 

Nero spun around, “What do you mean?” 

Vergil glanced over his son’s surprised face, studying him for a moment. There was no doubt that the boy was his son. And though Vergil hated being vulnerable, he knew that he wouldn’t feel right until he shared these fears with  _ someone _ ,  _ anyone _ … and maybe Nero was the right starting place. 

“It’s been pleasant,” Vergil whispered, “For the first time in many many years… but… everything in my life has been temporary. My time with Mother and Dante…  _ temporary.  _ Growing up on the streets, struggling to survive… temporary. My time with Meg… temporary.” He let out a sigh, leaning against a brick building, crossing his arms. “The words I repeated over and over to myself while I was trapped in Mundus’s grasp:  _ This shall pass. This shall pass.  _ Temporary. Who’s to say my life won’t always follow this pattern?” He frowned, feeling numb. Nero was just staring at him. Maybe he sounded like a lunatic. 

“Hey,” Nero frowned, “You’ve been through a lot of shit, Vergil, but you can’t look ahead to the future like that. You have family here who care about you, we’re not going to abandon you.” He shrugged his shoulders, “Neither is Lady.” 

Vergil felt an involuntary flush creep up his neck and to his cheeks. 

“You can do whatever the hell you want,” Nero said, “I’m not going to tell you what to do. Besides, I still think it’s weird you’re coming to  _ me _ for romance advice.” 

Vergil frowned, thinking, and then raised the Yamato and smacked the grip against the back of Nero’s head. 

“OW! Geez! What the hell, old man! Are you senile?!” 

“Don’t speak of this to anyone.” 

“Jesus, chill out. I didn’t talk to anyone about it the first time you asked me stuff, did I?” 

“You probably told that woman of yours,” Vergil said, moving past Nero and down the street towards where the van was parked. 

“Tch. My  _ woman _ has a name: Kyrie. And she’s not interested in your weird love life.” Nero snapped, rubbing the back of his head. As they reached the van, Vergil could hear music drifting down the street from inside, and the warm glow of the interior lights filled him with a feeling of comfort. He never imagined he would feel that way about some sort of vehicle. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking in a deep breath, and reaching for the door to step up into the van, but paused. Instead, he turned to face his son once more, offering the young man a smile. 

“Thank you, Nero.” 

Nero blinked and then shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, well, you know… it’s… whatever, I guess. You’re welcome.” 

Vergil almost laughed, and then nodded once, leading his son back into the warmth of the van.

* * *

**13 MAY ~ 12:34 PM**

“Good morning,” Dante yawned, practically tumbling down the stairs and pausing at the bottom step once he caught sight of his brother, nervously eyeing the phone. 

“It’s half past noon, Dante,” Vergil snapped, “You’ve slept in  _ again _ .” 

“Geez, what’s your problem?” 

“Nothing,” Vergil snapped, glancing at the phone again. It had been almost a week since he had spoken to Nero about his feelings for Mary, but he still hadn’t said anything to the woman.  _ Cowardice.  _ His thoughts whispered.  _ It’s because you’re a coward.  _

“Are you expecting a call?” Dante asked, one brow raised, seeming genuinely curious. But then his lips turned up in a teasing grin, “From a special someone?” He sang. 

“Shut up, Dante,” Vergil snapped, “I am not expecting any such thing—”

“Vergil’s in looove!” Dante sang, moving towards his older brother. 

“I will  _ slice you in twain _ ,” Vergil hissed, grasping the Yamato. 

“I didn’t get to tease you about girls when we were growing up, so you're overdue for it, bro,” Dante said, leaning over the desk towards his brother. “Vergil’s in looove!” 

“I am  _ not _ in love with Mary,” Vergil said, lying through his teeth. Dante threw his head back and cackled maniacally. Vergil drew his sword, pressing the point to his brother’s chest. “Cease this foolishness at once,  _ brother _ . What in the world do you find so…  _ hilarious _ ?” 

Dante offered Vergil a wide grin, “I didn’t mention a name.” He said. Vergil’s eyes widened, and then he thrust the sword through Dante’s chest. His brother doubled over, coughing, before Vergil yanked the weapon free, drew it across the sleeve of his coat, and sheathed it once more. 

“Foolishness,” he spat. Just then the phone rang. Dante was too busy spitting blood onto the carpet, and healing. So Vergil leaned over and grabbed the device from its cradle, pressing it to his ear. “ _ Devil May Cry _ .” He had heard Dante say it so many times upon answering the phone that now it was almost second nature to him. There was a moment of quiet before a soft voice laughed, 

“Vergil? I was expecting Dante. I’m glad it’s you.” 

Vergil tensed, his own voice soft as he responded, “Mary?” 

Dante raised a brow and took a step closer, but Vergil held up a hand. She sounded funny… as if… she had been crying? 

“I’m glad it’s you,” she said again. She sounded tired. “I was going to ask for you… I… was wondering if we could talk. Can you come over here?” 

Vergil nodded, and then remembered she couldn’t see him. “Y-yes, of course I can. I’ll be there in just a moment.” He hung up quickly and turned to leave, but Dante grabbed his arm. 

“Hey, is she alright?” 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but she sounded upset,” Vergil said, pulling his arm away from his brother. “She asked that I come to talk.” 

Dante bit his lip. 

“What? What is it?” Vergil sighed, glowering at his twin, “You know something you’re not telling me.” 

“It’s just… uh… it’s May, right?” Dante glanced at the old calendar on his wall and took in a deep breath. “Yeah, today’s the day, Vergil.” 

“Would you for once in your life speak  _ normally _ ?” Vergil snapped. “What is today?” 

The next words that left Dante’s mouth filled Vergil with pain and dread. “It’s the day Lady’s mother died—was killed… by  _ Arkham. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timestamps are back! (Definitely not because I can't keep track of things or anything... ahahha... aha...) But more because time's gonna have to pass quickly for Vergil to get this house and also... because... something big is coming >:) we've almost reached the climax. Thanks for reading! <3


	16. Chapter 16

Lady knew it wouldn’t be long before Vergil showed up after he hung up, but she didn’t get up to move from her couch. She had wrapped herself in a blanket, a mug of hot tea on the coffee table in front of her. It had been years since she had let the death of her mother affect her like this. Why now? Was it because of the events that transpired just last year? When she was trapped as Artemis… she had had dreams, dreams that she couldn’t remember well, but she knew they had been about her father and mother. Nightmares, really. Maybe that was why. The past had been made so much clearer by the present.

There was a steady knock on her front door. “Come in!” She said. There was a moment of quiet, and she frowned, rising to her feet and letting the blanket fall back on the sofa. “Vergil?” She questioned.

“Mary?” Even through the door his voice sounded strained. “Dante relayed to me… the significance of this day to you. Are you sure… you want to see  _ me? _ ” 

Lady froze, her heart nearly breaking for the man just on the other side of her door. Without even a moment of hesitation, she crossed the room, throwing open her front door, and pulling him into her apartment, not wasting a moment to sink into his embrace. He was tense for a moment but then relaxed, holding her close. “You’ve changed so much…” she whispered at last, her arms still wrapped around his waist, her head resting against his chest. “Would you have been so careful of my feelings six months ago?” 

He cupped her cheek, tilting her head up so he could look her in the eyes. “You’re probably right,” he frowned, studying her expression. “I wouldn’t have been.” 

She should have expected nothing less than irksome honesty from him—a trait that was both admirable and annoying. But the way he held her face in his hand was warm, and she watched as his brows furrowed in concern, the corner of his lip twitching before he spoke again, “What do you need, Mary?” 

“Will you just sit with me?” she asked. He nodded, his ever-present frown lessening a little as she led him to her sofa and they sat down together. Lady hugged her knees, wrapping her blanket tightly around herself again, and leaning ever so slightly against Vergil’s side. They were quiet for a long moment, Vergil waiting for her to say something. At last, she spoke, tilting her head away from him, trying to hide the tears that blossomed at the corners of her eyes. “Why does the pain feel so fresh this year? Other years… it’s like it’s just a fact.  _ This is the day my mother died.  _ But this year it’s different. Almost like I just found out.” Vergil didn’t respond, and she wondered if he didn’t know what to say, so she continued. “I suppose they say grief is like that. It has its own time, and… sometimes it comes back in full force. Sometimes when you least expect it.” 

“I apologize,” Vergil said. 

“For what?” Lady frowned, daring to glance at him, hoping that the tears in her eyes weren’t so obvious. 

“That I have no words of comfort for you. The only thing I can offer is my presence, which I am sure must not be very comforting.” 

“You’re listening, aren’t you?” Lady asked. “That’s enough.” She leaned closer to him.  _ Funny how time changes things.  _ She had not imagined in a thousand years that Vergil, son of Sparda, would be where she would find comfort for situations like this. But, despite his stoicism, his lack of physical touch… he was just that. She leaned against him with more confidence now, resting her head against his arm. “Can I tell you something?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Yes. I’m here aren’t I?” 

She sighed, gently taking his hand, and feeling a little delighted when he didn’t pull away, instead he entwined their fingers together, and held her hand tight. 

“When I was… Artemis…” she began and she felt Vergil tense, but he didn’t interrupt her. “When I was Artemis I had awful dreams. Dreams about my past, about my mother and father. My mother always asked me why I didn’t do more. Why I didn’t save her.” 

“Those events were in no way your fault,” Vergil said coldly, “Your father—”

“I know,” Lady said. “I know. But listen… recently I’ve been having different dreams. They feel the same... almost… demonic.” she shuddered. “My mother comes to me. She calls me a priestess, and she tells me that something bad is coming. Then she says something… some sort of verse or prophecy or…. I don’t know, my head probably makes it all up.” 

Vergil frowned, “Tell me what the verse is.”

Lady paused, remembering the words as easily as she remembered her own name: 

> _ “When the night had veil’d the pole: _
> 
> _ In the morning glad I see _
> 
> _ My foe outstretch’d beneath the tree.”  _

She shuddered, “If only you could have seen her face. She looked haunted. Like she was warning me. What does it mean? The tree makes me think of… the Qliphoth. Will something happen there, when we finally reach the foot of the tree? … You’re smiling—are you  _ laughing _ ?!” she gasped, punching him lightly, “Vergil! This isn’t funny!” 

“It’s Blake,” he said, still smiling, “That’s from William Blake’s poem ‘A Poison-Tree’. You probably dreamed it because you’ve heard me quote it before.  _ ‘And it grew both day and night…’ _ ” He paused, his expression growing serious again. “It was just a dream, Mary. Nothing more.” 

She nodded, “You’re probably right.” And then she huffed. “How dare I dream about  _ your _ poet. What have you been doing? Reading me poetry as a bedtime story?” 

“Only at your request, dear,” Vergil said, once again trying to hide a laugh. 

“Tch.” Lady huffed, and then she closed the distance between them, kissing him softly. 

“Thank you for coming, Vergil.” 

“You may call on me anytime,” he replied, “And I’ll come to you.” 

She flushed, her cheeks warm, and then smiled, “That’s probably the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.” 

Vergil scoffed, “Surely I can do better.”

“Mm… Alright, I’ll bite, prove it.” 

He offered her a glare, and then sighed, leaning back in his seat on the couch, staring at the ceiling before he spoke, his voice low and soft, just the way he recited Blake’s poems, his hand still holding hers gently. 

> _ “ _ Mary,  _ How divine the torment.  _
> 
> _ Would I were to change one thing— _
> 
> _ Like the sky changes dawn to dusk— _
> 
> _ I would ask the stars  _
> 
> _ For one more mere moment of mortality  _
> 
> _ To spend the rest of this foolish existence _
> 
> _ With you.”  _

Lady stared with wide eyes, trying to process what Vergil had just recited out to her. “W-what was that?!” she gasped. 

“I wrote it,” he replied simply, glancing away with a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks. 

“What do you mean you wrote it?! When?!” 

He smiled smugly, “After our date at the French restaurant.” 

Lady flushed. She remembered that one, and the kisses and tender touches that had followed after. “And you have it memorized?” 

“Of course,” Vergil scoffed. “You know I have excellent memory when it comes to verse.”

Lady shifted a little, squeezing his hand. “It’s beautiful, Vergil. Her heart was warm to know that he cared about her in such a way… 

“I think I have sufficiently proven myself,” Vergil said. 

“Yes,” Lady smiled, closing her eyes and resting her head against his shoulder once more, “You have.” 

* * *

_ “Urizen, the demon King.... that’s the name of the demon that took your arm.” _

_ Nero took in a shuddering breath, the thick smell of blood seemed almost suffocating all around him. Above him stood the throne at the center of the Qliphoth, and there, sitting in it, was Urizen himself. Nero gritted his teeth, reaching for Red Queen, but finding she wasn’t there. He was empty-handed and facing down the king of the demons.  _ Run!  _ His thoughts screamed at him, but when Nero tried to move it was as if his feet were glued to the ground. Urizen seemed to almost smile, yellow eyes glinting from behind the mask of vines, as if he knew Nero’s predicament, as if he had planned it.  _

_ “Pathetic. He hissed, his familiar, deep voice echoed through the chamber. “Weak.” He rose from his throne. “Yet… you try…” he hissed. “You will regret being born useless and human.” Urizen’s face shifted, his form changing. As he did he spoke, but his voice was not the same, his voice was that of Nero’s  _ father _.  _

_ “Merely human… petulant mortal flesh…  _ cursed _ …” Nero struggled, but as much as he tried he couldn’t move. Bile rose in his throat. Urizen’s form had slipped away, revealing the dark coat, the brushed back hair of  _ Vergil _. “Cursed,” Vergil whispered again, raising the Yamato and pressing the tip against Nero’s chest. “The moment you were brought into this world.” _

Nero woke up gasping for breath, and practically fell off the bed, landing hard on his hands and knees, choking. For the first time in a  _ long _ time, he was  _ afraid.  _ There was a rustle of the comforter as his fiancee moved to his side of the bed. 

“Nero?” Kyrie slipped down onto the floor beside him, and wordlessly pulled him into her arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek and holding him close. He let out a shuddering breath, relaxing against her and resting his head on her shoulder. “A nightmare?” she asked. 

He nodded. He didn’t want to speak. Saying something might betray his tears. And he didn’t want Kyrie to know he was on the verge of crying. How pathetic. For some reason, the dream had felt like a slap to his face. As if it had really happened, his father had actually said those things to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kyrie finally whispered. Nero took a deep breath and nodded, pulling away to look Kyrie in the eyes. 

“It was another dream about Urizen,” he began, and Kyrie nodded. “But it was different. It was… dad. He… he took Urizen’s place, said terrible things about me. That I was cursed. Weak. Pathetic.” 

“Nero…” Kyrie smiled, gently cupping his cheek. “It was just a dream. You know your father would never say things like that. It’s normal to feel confused and shaken when you find out something as big as who your father is. And just recently you told me he said he was proud of who you grew up to be. It’s hard to come to terms with something like that, to find balance. Maybe that’s what your dream is trying to say.”

“Like a warning?” Nero frowned. 

“No,” Kyrie said gently, “It’s just a dream. Don’t let it shake you up. You’re stronger than that, Nero. And you and Vergil have been getting along really well. You should be proud of the progress you’ve made!” 

“I still can’t shake this bad feeling,” Nero shuddered. Why was it that he still felt like he could smell the Qliphoth?  _ Just a dream _ . He told himself again. Kyrie reached out and gently took him into her arms again. 

“I’ll hold you until you feel better, then,” she said. Nero smiled, leaning against her. 

“I feel better already,” he said, trying to sound genuine. Usually, Kyrie  _ did _ make him feel better. But he wasn’t sure that moment could come until he found out what was making him so uneasy.

* * *

“Alright,” Dante took in a deep breath, spreading the stained map of the city over his desk. “One last piece of the puzzle, huh?” He said, pointing to the center of the map. There was a red X there, marking where the Qliphoth once stood. “And then we can be done with this shit once and for all.” 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this without payment,” Vergil said disdainfully. 

“Think of it this way,” Nero said, “Once we finish tonight, we’ll have more opportunities to take paying jobs. Besides, it’s about time you and Dante finish cleaning up your awful mess.” 

Vergil gritted his teeth, but his son was correct. This final night of work and they’d have the last of the demons left from the Qliphoth cleared out for good.  _ Finally _ . 

“Hey, let’s focus,” Dante said. “The closer we get to the core the more demons there are, so this could be a difficult task. Back in the old days I might have scoffed at this, but I’m glad we’re all here and working together. We’ll have to scale down the pits the Qliphoth left… make sure all the roots are really dead, and take care of any demons we encounter. Once that’s complete and we’ve explored and cleared out the whole area, we’re good to go.” 

It was a sunny day, a stark contrast to the task that lay ahead of them all. Vergil walked beside Mary, but somewhat behind the rest of their party. She seemed full of nervous energy. Vergil watched her closely for a moment before finally speaking with a shake of his head. “You’re contemplating your dream again, aren’t you?”

She glanced up and sighed. “How can I not? We’re going to the foot of the tree. Isn’t that what the verse said?”

“The tree is dead, Mary,” Vergil replied shortly. “There is no cause for alarm. This will be a simple job, through and through.”

Mary bit her lip. “I know, I know. I can’t help but worry, though. I feel like something bad is going to happen.” Vergil wished he could assuage her fears, but he wasn’t sure what else he could say. 

“We’ll all be cautious,” he assured her, just as they arrived at the cliffside. 

“We’ll want to be quick,” Dante said, staring down, down, down into the depths of the pit where the Qliphoth once stood. They couldn’t see the bottom, only mist… Dante turned, shifting into his most powerful devil form, wings sprouting from the dark scales along his back. “It’ll be best if we fly down.” 

“I’ll use my grappling—”

“There’s no way that will be long enough, Lady,” Trish warned, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

“Well, what do you suggest then?” Lady snapped. 

“Vergil can carry you down,” Dante replied, his voice distorted in his massive form, claws scraping on stone. “I’ll meet you down there!” And he dipped down and off the cliffside before anyone could respond. Vergil glanced back at his woman, a smile twitching at the corner of his lip. 

“He’s right, it’s only practical,” and then he shifted, feeling heat pool at the core of his chest, and bursting around him like flames catching on fuel. The familiar feeling of scales like warm, heavy armor, grew and encased around him, heat growing stronger at his middle. True strength--great power--surged within him, and he turned to Mary. She had seen this part of him a few times now, and every time he had expected more of a reaction. But Mary was not afraid of him, instead, an expression he didn’t quite recognize… pride? Admiration? ...was written on her features. Nero and Trish made their hasty exits off the cliff as Mary approached Vergil. She placed her hands on the smooth scales of his chest, she felt cool against the heat radiating from him. 

“You don’t mind carrying me down then?” She queried, glancing up at him. He shook his head. 

“No,” he said, his voice coming out deep and rough between the rows of sharp demonic teeth jutting from his scaled jaw. “But you know that already.” He lifted her into his arms, wings unfurling only after he leaped from the edge. Mary held on tight as they descended, wind whipping against their faces. 

When they landed heavily on solid ground, Vergil gently set Mary to her feet, and with a shimmer of blue light, he returned to himself, clutching the Yamato tight. They were enshrouded with mist, and even with his heightened senses, he could barely see more than a few feet ahead of him. 

“Dante?” Mary called. “Trish?” 

Her voice only seemed to echo through the fog and bounce off the tall cliffs around them. 

“They couldn’t have gone far,” Vergil hissed. He turned and took Mary’s hand with his free hand. Her eyes widened at the gesture and he frowned, glancing away, “Don’t think much of it,” he said. “It’s so we don’t get separated.” 

“Smart,” she said, entwining their fingers together, and pulling him close to her side. He glanced away so she wouldn’t see his smile. Now was  _ not _ the time to be thinking about frivolous things, like how warm she was against him, or how he wanted to pull her even closer… 

They advanced into the mist, hands held tight together. They seemed to wander forever in silence. “Something’s not right,” Mary whispered, “Where are all the demons?” 

Vergil gritted his teeth. The smell of blood was in the air. A smell that was rancid, like rusting iron… and familiar. The realization made him feel something akin to  _ fear— _ a feeling he was not used to at all. He paused, glancing around, peering through the mist. Mary glanced back at him. 

“What’s wrong?”

“The Qliphoth,” he said, holding her hand tight. “It smells like the Qliphoth.”

“Of course it does,” she replied. “This is where it stood.”

“No… something’s wrong.” Ahead, just through the fog, he could see a faint red glow. He pulled Mary along with him until he drew closer, just enough to see what it was. A  _ sapling _ … a Qliphoth. 

“No way,” Mary said, “No way.” 

“We have to find Dante—” but before Vergil could finish there was a soft laugh somewhere in the mist. Familiar, and chilling. 

“Well, well, well… If it isn’t his majesty the new  _ king _ of hell,” a pale woman with raven black hair and glowing green eyes stepped out of the mist. She wore charcoal-colored clothes, and on her wrists were manacles with chains broken. She offered Vergil a toothy smile, sharp teeth glinting in the pale light of the Qliphoth’s glow. Those pale eyes… that sultry voice… it was like a kick to Vergil’s gut. He gripped Mary’s hand tighter. 

“ _ You _ ,” he growled. “Grimm.” 

“Grimm?” Mary frowned. 

“A demon. Servant of Mundus.” 

“A pleasure to meet you as  _ always _ , Son of Sparda,” she purred, seeming to float over the ground, her movements so fluid as she approached him. She trailed her long, sharp fingernails down his chest, catching on the last button of his coat. “It’s been quite a long time since I saw you in chains. Maybe, now that I will succeed where you  _ failed _ , I should remedy that.” 

Before Vergil could respond, Mary had leveled the Kalina Ann directly at Grimm’s raven tresses. “Get your hands off him, demon bitch,” she hissed. 

“Hm…” Grimm smiled, clearly only amused by a human standing up to her. “I see you’ve found a pet, Nelo.” 

The name shook him, making him feel nauseous.  _ Keep it together.  _ He couldn’t let Grimm smell his weakness. Instead, he raised a hand between Mary and Grimm. “She is none of your concern,  _ witch _ ,” he hissed. “What are you doing here?” 

“What do you think?” Grimm teased, taking a step back, “I know you already have theories. You did even when you were Mundus’s  _ toy _ .” 

Vergil gritted his teeth, memories like a headache being dug up from the back of his mind—things he didn’t want to remember. “Tell me now, and I might spare your life,” he hissed. 

“Tsk, tsk…” Grimm tutted, shaking her head. “You always  _ were _ so impatient. Haven’t you guessed already?” She said, “I’m going to succeed where you  _ failed _ .”

“What  _ nonsense _ are you uttering?” Vergil said. 

“Soon,” Grimm said, tilting her head, her smile disturbingly wide, to say the least. “This Qliphoth will grow strong and tall. I will have my own fruit…  _ I  _ will be the rightful Queen of the underworld.” 

Vergil threw his head back and laughed, “You need human  _ blood _ for a Qliphoth to grow. There are no more humans here… not close anyways.” 

Grimm offered Vergil a crazed grin, her sharp teeth bared. “Why, Nelo Angelo… there’s at least  _ one _ human right here…” Before Vergil could react, Grimm was behind Mary, gripping her arms so tightly Vergil was sure she was bruising them. Mary struggled, kicking and threatening Grimm. Seeing Grimm here, hearing her call him ‘Nelo Angelo’ … it nearly made Vergil snap. But this was the final straw. 

In a flash of blue light, he changed, demonic energy pulsing through him as he shot towards Grimm, wings outstretched. He slammed his clawed hand against the demon’s face, yanking her away from his woman, clutching her tightly in his fist. “You should learn your place,” he hissed, voice distorted and deep. 

Mary had stumbled to the ground at the blast but was quickly composing herself, pulling the Kalina Ann from her shoulder once more and aiming it at Grimm. Around them, the fog was clearing somewhat. 

Grimm was grinning widely once more, licking her dark green tongue across her jagged teeth. “You  _ insolent  _ halfbreed,” she cackled. “ _ You _ should be the one to learn your place. After all, I was a high general under Mundus’s rule. And what were you? Nothing but a  _ lapdog _ .” And with those words, Grimm’s hand shifted, dark claws growing from her pale fingertips, her green eyes glowing brighter. Vergil resisted, but once again  _ fear _ bit at him like a starving dog on a bone. And he was frozen, but all while feeling like he was falling… falling… falling… 

He could remember now… standing in Mundus’s power, refusing to submit while memories of his mother were ripped from his mind… dark claws from pale fingertips digging into his skin with every second of his resistance… The Qliphoth was gone. Mary was gone. Only Mundus’s overwhelming power, and Grimm… Grimm’s awful smile… come to torture him into submission  _ again.  _

* * *

_ Something’s wrong!  _ Vergil was frozen, staring at Grimm as if he wasn’t really seeing her. He had returned to his human form, his normally swept-back hair, was a mess, his blue eyes lit with panic. Even in his human form, he towered over the little devil in front of him. But she had revealed her claws and he had gone still. It was almost like… he was afraid…?  _ No, that’s impossible!  _

Grimm smiled again, teeth bared, “I’m going to finish what Mundus started.” She paced back and forth in front of him, amused, “Are you afraid of me still, Nelo Angelo? Do you still have nightmares of those days in hell. Those days I stole your memories…” she snickered, leaning towards him. “I have dreams about it too. Taking your precious happy memories… I’ve never felt more alive.” 

_ I have to stop this _ . Lady raised the Kalina Ann once more. She had fought plenty of devils before… the fact that this one stopped Vergil in his tracks made her hesitate. But she couldn’t let this monster hurt him. 

“Step away from him!” She snapped pointing the Kalina Ann towards Grimm as the devil pressed her fingertips to Vergil’s temple. 

Grimm cackled. “You? A human?” She narrowed her eyes with delight, “Oh how delicious. You’re in  _ love _ with this devil, aren’t you? Do you realize what awful things he’s done? What awful creatures he’s  _ been _ ?” Then she turned towards Vergil again, “And you... Are you in love with this human woman? What a perfect scene I’ve stumbled upon.” 

_ She’s too close. If I fire, I could hurt Vergil too.  _ Lady gritted her teeth, poising the bayonet for a charge, and then dove towards the demon. 

“Get away from him!” 

But it was as if Grimm didn’t even hear her. Instead, the demon leaned in close, and whispered, “Perhaps I shall take  _ those _ precious memories as well…”

Then, several horrible things happened at once. Through the fog there was a shout as Dante finally appeared, followed by Trish and Nero, distracting Grimm. But her words worked too well, waking Vergil from his stupor, there was a flash of demonic power, and he thrashed violently throwing her aside like a ragdoll. Lady saw what was coming before it hit her, but she wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way, and one of Vergil’s scaled hands slammed into her cheek from the side as he roared in anger, clutching his head with the other. 

The hit was so heavy, Lady tumbled across the clearing and into the thick fog, her body pounding against stones and packed dirt, landing far away from the commotion.  _ Did he break my jaw?  _ The tingling numb feeling in her face turned to pain just after she thought those words, and she faded away into unconsciousness.  _ Please don’t let it be broken.  _

* * *

“—ad! Dad!” 

Vergil clutched his head, gritting his teeth, glancing up with fire in his blue eyes, towards where Grimm was recovering. Nero was standing over him, hand on his shoulder. “Dad?! Are you alright?!” He said, shaking his father again, “Hey! Answer me!” 

“I’m fine,” Vergil grunted, rising to his feet, and drawing the Yamato from her sheath. “Barely. Be careful. Grimm uses her demonic powers to ‘steal’ memories… or rather… lock them away or see them for herself. She did the same to me in order for Mundus to create…  _ Trish _ .” He gritted his teeth. “And for Nelo Angelo to… ‘forget’ where he came from.” Really, though, he wondered how much of that had been Grimm’s powers, and how much of it had been the torment they put him through. There were still scars… and sometimes he still dreamed of the pain. 

“Noted,” Dante said, stretching a little. “Let’s finish this once and for all.”  _ A whole year after it was started.  _

“Where’s Mary?” Vergil hissed. Dante bit his lip, glancing back at where Trish stood. 

“Don’t worry about her,” he said, “Let’s focus. She’s alright.” 

He and Trish shared a look, the she-devil nodded and slipped away into the fog. 

“Sparda’s kin,” Grimm hissed. “How fitting.” 

Vergil smiled, raising his weapon, “I won’t be letting you take anything else away from me, devil.” 

* * *

She was jostled in and out of consciousness. Vague memories stirred up by each face that leaned over her, concern written in their eyes. Warm gold hair. Then: a grimace with stubble. Then: a young face, brows furrowed. But, the last one she saw… the last one…  _ tortured _ and pale. An expression of such deep-cut guilt, something warm… his hand? ...against her cheek.  _ “Mary…?! Mary?”  _ He was shaking… leaning over her, pressing his forehead to hers.  _ Vergil?  _ He was shaking… 


	17. Chapter 17

When Lady woke she was in the  _ Devil May Cry  _ van, and it was quiet besides soft conversation in the back.  _ What a familiar feeling.  _ Last time she had blacked out, more than one year ago now, she had woken up here as well, naked, cold, and with no memory of the events that had spanned over a month… She felt sore, especially her face, which she was sure was badly bruised and swollen, but she was thankful to find she could open and close her jaw just fine, with only a mild amount of pain. So, surely it wasn’t broken. As she sat up, the conversation died away. Nico, Trish, and Nero appeared in her field of vision, moving towards her from the back of the van. 

“How do you feel?” Trish asked, gently setting a hand on Lady’s shoulder. 

“Like I was hit by a truck,” Lady laughed, gingerly touching her cheek to find that she had been correct, it was bruised and swollen and hurt like a bitch. 

“I wouldn’t say that ‘round Vergil,” Nico warned. 

“Where is he?” Lady whispered. Nico looked uncomfortable and turned towards the driver’s seat. Nero let out a deep sigh. 

“Once he was sure you were alright, he ran off.” He replied, “Dante left soon after, and called and said he wasn’t back at the shop. He’s got to be blowing off steam somewhere.”

Trish shook her head, interrupting the young man, “He didn’t take it well when he remembered that  _ he _ was the one who hurt you,” she said. “You know he blames himself for so much already…” 

“I have to find him and tell him this isn’t his fault,” Lady said. “I would  _ never  _ blame him for something like this… Grimm did something to him…”

“You need to rest,” Trish said, gently pushing Lady back against the couch. “And ice that cheek of yours.” 

“I’m fine, really!” Lady said, exasperated. She stood, before Trish could tell her otherwise, and grabbed the Kalina Ann. “I think I know where he is. And I  _ have _ to talk to him.” 

“He was pretty upset,” Nero warned. 

“It’s okay,” Lady whispered, pausing at the door of the van, “I would be too. I just want him to know that… I don’t blame him for what happened.” She wanted to make sure he was alright. To assure him that  _ she _ was alright. She thought of how he had come to her when she had been upset, how he had held her in his arms.  _ “What do you need, Mary?”  _

“I can go with you,” Nero offered, but Trish grabbed his arm. 

“It’s probably better if she goes alone. Besides, Kyrie is waiting for you at home, isn’t she?” 

With those words, Lady stepped out of the van, ignoring the pain in her face, and moving towards the manor. 

* * *

Vergil leaned against the mantle of the old fireplace, staring up at the faded and blurred painting of his family. He took in a shuddering breath. “Mother,” he whispered, tracing his fingers across the mantle, bringing up soot and dust. “Father…”  _ What have I done?  _ He shuddered. For the first time in a long time, he felt fragile, as if he were made of porcelain. He thought of all the shattered china in the kitchen just down the hall and felt sick to his stomach. He knew that he had cracks in him, across every part of him, as if just one touch could cause him to shatter. And what would happen then? Would anyone be able to put him back together again? 

“Vergil?” It was  _ her.  _ He could sense her standing at the edge of the flooring, her voice was hoarse and desperate. He wanted so badly to turn and take her up into his arms and hide himself in her warmth. But he knew that if he looked at her, saw the harm  _ he _ had caused, he might shatter into a million pieces.  _ So fragile… so fragile…  _

“Leave me!” He hissed, not daring to turn to face her. Silence. 

“Look at me,” she said, at last. Vergil winced. 

“I said  _ leave me _ , foolish woman!” He said, louder. 

“Not until you look at me, Vergil!” She said, more firmly. He was quiet, drawing in a deep breath. Why did he feel so fragile?! He turned slowly. Mary stood there, her cheek bruised and swollen, but where he expected there to be anger and hatred, there was only a soft warmth and a genuine smile. “I was hoping that you would be there when I woke up,” she whispered, tears blooming at the corners of her eyes. “But you weren’t.” 

It took every piece of him not to run to her and pull her into his embrace. “ _ I  _ did this to you.” 

“No, you didn’t,” she said, her brow furrowing. “I don’t know what Grimm did to you, and I only know a little bit from Dante about what he found on Mallet Island…” Vergil winced, and Mary continued, “But I will  _ never _ blame you for the pain you are struggling with.” 

“I’m  _ not _ struggling!” He hissed. “I am a son of Sparda! His blood flows through my veins! His—”  _ soul…  _ Vergil gritted his teeth, why did Dante’s foolish words have to come to his mind now? Making him doubt himself! 

“It’s okay to accept that not every part of you has to be  _ strong,  _ Vergil!” Mary hissed. “You are a person! And people are complicated! Grimm and Mundus, they  _ hurt _ you. It’s okay to be hurt still because of it!” 

_ Fragile. You’re fragile. Pathetic. Weak.  _ “Why should you care?!” Vergil growled, baring his teeth, “I  _ hurt _ you! Look at what I did to you?! How can you pretend to care for me—how can you forgive me?!” 

“Because I  _ love _ you!”  _ Silence.  _ Tears rolled down Mary’s cheeks, and she took a step back. “Of  _ course,  _ I forgive you, Vergil. I… care about you more than anything. Please,  _ talk  _ to me.” 

“You…” Vergil choked. “You…” He trailed off, glancing away from her, and letting out a deep sigh. “I feel like I’m… cracked porcelain… I feel like I’m about to shatter.” 

And then Mary crossed the room, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down into her embrace, and holding him warm and close.  _ Pathetic. Fragile. Broken. Weak.  _ “I won’t let you shatter,” she murmured against his cheek, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’m here for you.” He melted into her arms, pulling her closer. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” she said sternly. 

She held him for some time, running her fingers through his hair, humming softly, and when he pulled away he took her hand and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you.” 

“Mm… What was it you said to me…? ‘You may call on me anytime, and I’ll come to you.’” 

“You deserve some sort of explanation,” he said. Mary glanced up at him, still holding his hand gently in hers. 

“Only if you want to, Vergil. I would never push you for one.” 

“I understand,” he replied. “I’ll give it freely, to  _ you _ .” 

“Do you want to talk here? Or somewhere else?” 

He hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Lets go to my place. I can make coffee. And it would be warmer.” 

“Very well.” He released her hand, drawing the Yamato and slicing it twice through the air. She offered him a confident smile, though with the swelling on her one cheek it looked rather lopsided, which made Vergil’s heart ache once more.  _ Damn these emotions!  _ How could one woman cause him so much upset?! It was as if she had thrown everything he knew upside down, just by  _ existing _ !!! 

_ “I love you!”  _ She had said. Had she forgotten already? He felt his cheeks warm.  _ She loves me. She… loves me?!  _ Impossible. Utterly ludicrous! Unheard of! And if it was true… well… she might change her mind after what he meant to tell her now. 

She took his hand, and they stepped together into her living room. “It’s already warmer,” she sighed, squeezing his hand. “I’ll make some coffee. Why don’t you sit down?” But he couldn’t sit down. Instead, he paced back and forth across her living room. It  _ was  _ warmer, and usually, he felt at ease sitting with Mary in her home. But for some reason, he felt on edge now. Maybe it was the prospect of sharing with her the deepest parts of him that he hadn’t shared with anyone. 

When she returned she sat on the tan couch, setting two coffee mugs on the coffee table and patting the seat beside her, for him to come sit next to her. He let out a sigh of resignation and sat down, careful not to bump the little table in front of them. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” she said again. Vergil took her hand, lifting it to kiss her knuckles. 

“You of all people are the one I want to share the truth with,” he said. He paused and she let him think, taking a sip of her coffee, squeezing his hand gently and leaning back against the sofa. At last, he spoke again. “Do you know the story of Prometheus?” He asked. 

“Prometheus… well…” Lady bit her lip. “Remind me?” 

Vergil sighed in disdain, “In Greek Mythology, Prometheus was a titan who secretly gave the human race the gift of fire. Zeus, king of the gods, was infuriated by Prometheus’ disobedience. He chained Prometheus to a rock, and he commanded an eagle to come every day and rip the titan’s liver from his body. Prometheus was essentially a god. Every day he grew a new liver and he healed. But, that did not take away from the pain and loneliness of his punishment…. Mundus was like Zeus,” Vergil whispered, “And I, like Prometheus. Though I  _ never _ gave anyone a gift. In my hubris, I believed that I could destroy Mundus as my father did of old, and take his power for myself… but I was blind to my own lack of strength. I let confidence misguide me. In the end, Mundus destroyed me. He  _ broke  _ me, but he did not kill me. He kept me for his own plans.” Vergil grimaced. “Yes… Mundus, like Zeus. I, like Prometheus. Grimm…  _ like the eagle _ . 

“I would not submit so easily, though he had Grimm torture me day and night. Her powers allowed her to not only tear into me physically, but to rip away my memories, to see them for herself. She was the one who gave Mundus the memories of my mother so that he might create Trish. She was the one who learned of Dante, and where he lived. She was the one who allowed Mundus to enact his plans on Mallet Island. It was her torture, day and night, that broke me like fragile glass, that carved me into  _ Nelo Angelo _ .

“That’s really all I can say,” he whispered. “I have nothing left now, but the memories and the scars.” 

Mary was quiet for a moment. “And Grimm? What happened…?” 

“She’s dead,” Vergil hissed. “I didn’t even let Dante keep the devil arm… If Grimm were to ever come back and hurt someone else, I could never forgive myself.” 

Mary reached out and gingerly touched his chest. “You have scars?” she asked, glancing up at him. “... May I?” She clasped the zipper of his vest. He quickly grabbed her hand. 

“They’re unsightly.” 

“Show them to me.” 

Vergil gritted his teeth, “You are  _ demanding  _ and  _ stubborn _ , woman.” he said, but he released her hand and gestured at her to continue. She slowly pulled down his zipper, and gently pulled his vest and coat off over his shoulders. Her fingertips were warm against his skin. He was sure she would look at him with horror when she saw the long jagged marks, left by all the torments Mundus and Grimm had put him through. But when she saw his chest, she rested her hand against his skin, and gently traced over the scars with her fingertips. She looked sad. 

“Some of them look distorted.” 

“Some of them I received in my devil form,” he whispered, grimacing. “My horns… you remember…” 

“When I lit the books on fire!” she said. 

“You’ve seen Dante’s horns as well… mine should look similar, long and proud. Mundus sawed them off.” 

She looked horrified, gripping his shoulder tight. “Wh-what?!” 

"A devil’s horns could be considered a sign of their status. An old custom. Longer, bigger horns were signs of more power,” Vergil said, “But if they are broken, they  _ do not _ grow back. Mundus sawed mine off as a sign of shame,” he whispered. “For my refusal to cooperate.” 

“Vergil, look at me,” Mary said, gently cupping his chin. “You are the  _ strongest _ man I know. Nothing like your scars can define that, okay? Though scars are a part of who we are now, they aren’t signs of being  _ broken _ .” She raised his arm, gently kissing each jagged scar from his fingertips to his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” Vergil frowned. 

“I’m showing you that I care for you, every part of you, every mark… every reminder. You are whole, and I  _ love _ you.” 

She said it again? “Impossible,” Vergil scoffed. 

“What? Impossible that I love you? Think again.” she tilted her head, pressing a kiss to the scar at the crook of his neck. She pulled away, her expression shifting to one of a more serious nature. “Listen to me,  _ nothing _ in this universe can change how I feel about you.  _ Ever.  _ Okay?” 

He stared down into her mismatched eyes, his heart pounding, before he leaned over to kiss her hard. He had done nothing in his life to make him worthy of this woman, but here she was… how stunning of a miracle: for her to whisper that she was his, and his alone… to feel her kiss him back... to hear her soft voice, feel her warm breath on his cheek,  _ “Gentle.”  _

_ I will  _ show  _ you that I feel the same…  _ with heavy breath, and desperation, and desire. 

When she woke up hours later, warm and content—his body pressed against hers, skin warm against her skin—he was awake, his fingers tangled in her hair, his hand pressed against her cheek. “My  _ heaven in hell’s despair, _ ” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, his eyes lidded as he kissed the scar across her nose. He entwined his fingers with hers, squeezing her hand, raising it to kiss the inside of her wrist as he leaned over her—soft and warm. “I love you too.” 

* * *

Nero stepped through the doors to the  _ Devil May Cry  _ shop to find Vergil leaning against Dante’s desk and cleaning up the latter’s pizza mess, without a doubt left from the night before. Such a task typically had Vergil complaining and with a bitter scowl, but instead, this morning, he seemed almost as if he were on the verge of smiling. 

“Huh… you’re in a good mood this morning,” Nero frowned, scratching the top of his head and stepping farther into the shop.

“Nero,” Vergil glanced up, before shoving the pizza box and napkins into a garbage bag he was carrying around, clearly having collected trash from around the couch and dart board as well. He hesitated, a faint flush rising in his cheeks. “I suppose I  _ am _ … feeling rather well this morning.” 

“Hey, that’s good!” Nero grinned, crossing his arms as Vergil resumed his cleaning. “Oh, yeah! So Lady must have talked with you yesterday, huh?” 

Vergil paused for a moment and then nodded without turning back around. “Yes, we spoke,” he said, his voice sounding strained. 

“So Lady’s alright? Her bruise? I offered to go with her—” 

“She was quite alright when I left this morning. She was icing it while she made coffee…”

Nero grimaced,  “Okay, you do _not_ have to tell me anymore.” 

Vergil’s eyes widened, realizing he had just completely given himself away. He had hoped to avoid this by coming home early. Dante had still been fast asleep when he had arrived, and he had breathed a sigh of relief. Now he had completely ruined it with his own son. “Forget you heard anything,” he hissed. 

“Trust me, I’m trying as hard as I can,” Nero said. Vergil let out a deep sigh. 

“What brought you here anyway?” 

“Believe it or not I came to check up on you, dad,” Nero frowned. “Yesterday, the last I saw you, you weren’t doing well at all.” 

Vergil froze, turning slowly to face his son. “‘Dad’...” he said, “You addressed me as that when we faced Grimm as well. You so easily offer me the title of ‘father’? Why?” 

Nero scoffed, “The hell you mean ‘why’?” 

“I have done nothing in this life to deserve your acceptance and yet you are here calling me by this endearing term.” 

“First off, I wouldn’t go so far as to say…” Nero grimaced, “‘endearing.’ Second off, you  _ are _ my dad, aren’t you? And against my better judgement, I care about you. Plus… you say you’ve done nothing to deserve my acceptance. That’s a lie. You’ve done nothing in the past year besides try to be better. You’ve accepted Kyrie, albeit reluctantly. You’ve played games with the boys. You’ve gotten closer to Dante. You’ve changed,  _ Dad _ . Can’t you see?” He smiled a little. “Guess it’s my turn to be proud of  _ you _ .” 

For a moment Vergil stared at his son in surprise, and then he shook his head. “How foolish, a son being proud of his father.” 

“I hope you’ll look back on it with fondness, actually,” Nero said, “Anyways, where’s Dante? I was supposed to drop off this note from Morrison.” 

“Dante’s out. He left early, possibly to get more of this… awfully cheap pizza.” 

“I’m sure it was more important than that,” Nero frowned. “He probably got a job. Speaking of which…” he paused, taking in a deep breath, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the house… the manor.”

“Ah, the house,” Vergil nodded, another smile seeming to grace his lips. He seemed so carefree and happy this morning. If he hadn’t been growing closer to his son over the past several months Nero might have found it disturbingly out of character. “Mary has told me that we are getting very close to having enough saved up for what is called a…  _ down payment _ ?” He frowned. 

“Hey, that’s great!” Nero grinned, and then he shifted a little, taking in a deep breath. “I wanted to offer you my assistance with that.” 

Vergil stood up straight, tensing. “I don’t require your help, son.” He said coolly. “I have already taken too much by accepting Mary’s.” 

“Listen, this is important to you, Dad, so it's important to me… I know you want this house to stay in the family, and we’re family aren’t we?” 

Vergil narrowed his eyes, but his shoulders relaxed. “Yes, we are.” 

“Then let me help you with the house. If it makes you feel better, you can always pay me back. But, I expect we’ll be visiting you often.” He grinned, “After all, you’ll be rebuilding the house, right? That’s lots of room, we’ll have to have get-togethers every once in a while, right?” 

Vergil shuddered, “Though I don’t mind spending time with you, let's not make  _ get-togethers _ , as you call them, a habit. However,” he paused, glancing at his son thoughtfully, “You make a good point. Perhaps I  _ shall _ accept your help.” 

"No matter what you decide, I want you to know that I support you fully, and I think it’s a great idea that you want to buy the property back.” 

“Thank you, Nero,” Vergil smiled, “Perhaps I  _ shall _ invite you to spend some time at my new home.” 

“I’d like that a lot. I better get back to work. When you see Dante, give him this.” 

“Of course.” 

* * *

“I didn’t expect you to come back so soon,” Lady smiled coyly, leaning back against the counter and straightening Vergil’s collar. He leaned closer to her, cupping her cheek. 

“Don’t be deceived, woman,” he said, studying her, “I’ve only come to assure that you’re healing quickly.” 

“I’m fine,” she said, “It’s just a little bruised. Can’t you tell? It already looks and feels much better.” She pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his lips. She felt him tense under her touch and then he relaxed, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Just admit you missed me,” Lady murmured against him, kissing him between each word, cupping his chin as he pulled her taut against him. 

“I’d rather die,” Vergil hissed, “I could never miss you.” His grip on her hips tightened and he kissed her again more firmly. 

“Actions speak louder than words, Vergil,” she said. 

“Tell me how you feel again,” Vergil demanded, pulling away to look her in the eyes. 

She smirked, “You first, handsome.” 

She watched him tense, his brows furrowed in a stubborn frown before he mumbled something. 

“What was that?” Lady grinned, “I couldn’t quite hear what you said.” 

“You… are everything to me, Mary,” he said at last. “I  _ ardently _ love you.” 

She kissed him hard, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I’ll have to have you say that a few more times today,” she grinned. 

“Don’t torment me, woman” he said, clutching her shoulder. 

She grinned, leaning close, “Mm… ask nicely.”

“You’ve become  _ very  _ relaxed with that mouth of yours,” Vergil growled, his brow furrowed. 

Lady smirked, arm still tight around his shoulder. “Want to see what else I can do with my mouth?” She said, watching with pleasure as Vergil’s face flushed red. 

“You have proven my point perfectly,” he spluttered. “You’re lucky I find you  _ tolerable _ .”

“Just tolerable?” Lady pouted, 

Vergil let out a deep sigh, “More than just tolerable.” 

Lady loosened her hold on him, holding him gently, their noses brushing as she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I love you too, Vergil.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**_16 AUGUST 12:45 PM_ **

“Remind me why we’re here?” Dante groaned, leaning back in the metal folding chair he had selected from the collection Kyrie and Nero had brought to the old manor. Lady sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Once Vergil gets here we’re going to celebrate with him,” she said, exasperated.

“Vergil put in a lot of hard work to save up money for a down payment,” Kyrie added. “He should be proud.” The three boys were dashing around the house, exploring all it’s collapsed rooms and property behind the building. “Be careful!” Kyrie called. “It could be dangerous.” 

“It’s alright,” Lady said, “Vergil and I have walked through the house plenty of times.” 

“I can’t believe he came up with a down payment so quickly,” Dante frowned. 

Nero was setting food out on the folding table that had brought with them. “Believe it or not, Dante, some people are good at saving money.” 

“And besides,” Trish said, grabbing a baby carrot from the vegetable tray. “Red Grave just suffered through an immense disaster that _literally_ tore up the ground we walk on.” She gestured towards the house and the ground that had now settled since the Qliphoth had been destroyed. “In order to keep the city _alive_ housing prices have gone down _immensely.”_

At the corner of Lady’s eye, there was a flicker of blue and she turned to see the maw of a portal stretch open through reality. Vergil stepped through, a hint of pride in the way he stood and smiled, his arms crossed, the Yamato tight in one hand. Everyone stared at him in expectation, but first, he glanced over at the house, where the children were playing, with a sort of surveying gaze, before he settled back on his friends and family. 

“As is meet and right, the house is mine,” he said, and immediately there was an eruption of cheers that seemed to startle him. Dante was out of his seat in a second, throwing his arms around his tense brother, and practically lifting him in the air in a hug. 

“Hell yeah, Verge! I knew you could do it!” 

He put the older twin down before he could protest. Vergil let out a huff, straightening his dress shirt, and Nero approached, holding out his hand. “Congratulations, Dad. You deserve it,” he said, shaking his father’s hand. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like when you’re done rebuilding it!” 

Vergil hesitated, “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Nico and Trish offered their congratulations as well and then Lady finally approached her partner, one hand on her hip. “Well, I had my doubts,” she said, teasingly.

To her surprise he didn’t get offended, instead, he smiled, “How dare you doubt me, woman?” Was he teasing her back? _Impossible!_ She laughed. 

“I know, I’m a terrible girlfriend.” The word slipped off her tongue before she could stop it and she flushed, realizing what she had labeled herself as, Vergil only looked amused at how flustered she was, reaching out to take her hand, and leaning in close. 

“The worst,” he said. 

“How dare you,” she huffed. But Vergil continued. 

“I could not have achieved this without you, Mary,” he said seriously. “It would have all been for naught. And for that, I am incredibly grateful that you learned to forgive me.” Her heart nearly broke at the tormented expression on his face, and she gently cupped his cheek. 

“I hope that you continue to learn to forgive _yourself_ ,” she whispered. 

“Dad,” Nero said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Er… sorry, you should cut the cake! And Kyrie wants to take a picture of you in front of the house.” 

“A picture?” Vergil frowned as Lady stepped aside. 

“To remember today!” Kyrie said, holding up her camera with a wide smile. 

Lady stepped back to stand beside Kyrie so she was out of the picture, but she watched as Vergil completely tensed up, looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“It’s just a picture, Verge,” Dante snickered, “Relax, and then we can have some cake.”

Lady sighed and moved to her partner’s side again, “Just relax,” she said, “And smile. You’re really proud of this house—think of that.” She moved to leave, but he grabbed her hand, a faint flush on his cheeks. 

“Stay. For the picture.” 

“Me?” Lady frowned, pointing to herself. “You want me in the picture… but it’s your moment, Vergil—”

“I would have it no other way,” he said, and his smile was so soft, Lady felt warm from the sight. 

“Smile!” Kyrie said as Lady turned towards the camera. Before Vergil could protest Lady wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug from the side and grinning at the flash of the camera. In the next moment, the three boys were piling around them, grinning wide. _Flash._ And then Dante threw his arms around the two of them, practically lifting them both up off their feet. _Flash._ Nero was the last to join, resting his hand on his father’s shoulder, and laughing at the boys’ funny faces. _Flash._

“Ridiculous,” Vergil huffed. “As if I won’t be able to remember this all myself.”

“Someday in the distant future your descendants will be able to look back at these pictures,” Trish pointed out, “Don’t you want to continue Sparda’s legacy?” 

Vergil offered her a glare, but let out a defeated sigh, “I suppose that you’re correct,” he said at last. 

“Come on, Verge, cut the cake!” Dante begged, pointing to where the blue-flower-topped sheet cake was sitting on the table. Vergil let out a deep sigh but obliged, slicing the cake into squares and letting Dante take the first corner piece. 

* * *

When the party had finally seemed to slow down, Vergil stood alone, staring up at the ruins of what was once a proud house. This place was _his_ now, and he could hardly believe it. He walked along the edge of the property, tracing his fingertips over crumbled brick. Since the Qliphoth roots had withered away the ground had mostly settled to its former position, but there were still craggy edges and mounds that marred his childhood home. He was just reaching the remains of the huge, old oak tree when Dante joined him, running his fingers through his long silver hair. 

“Heh, remember when I chased you up this old tree. You were so scared,” he laughed. 

Vergil offered his brother a glare, “I was not _chased_ or scared as you so claim,” he said. “I was attempting to find solitude away from your incessant _noise_.” 

“Hmm… I seem to remember you not knowing how to climb down.” Dante said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “And you begged me to go get mom to rescue you.” He paused, “Did you throw your book at me?”

Vergil gritted his teeth but couldn’t help but brag, “With perfect accuracy,” he replied. “You had a gash in your forehead. Mother was horrified.” 

“Pfft. I was fine.” 

“Were we always destined to fight?” Vergil asked, pressing his hand against the mangled trunk of the tree. Dante hesitated. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Two sons of Sparda, vying for their father’s approval and power. Maybe it was meant to be,” Vergil frowned. 

“Are we fighting now?” Dante asked. 

“No,” Vergil said. 

“Then what the hell are you talking about?” Dante laughed. 

Vergil offered his brother an annoyed scowl, “For once it might be nice if you actually take something I say seriously.”

“Vergil, listen,” Dante sighed, “We’ve come a long way. Why this? Why now?”

“I was just contemplating the past,” Vergil replied gruffly, “How foolish and chaotic I was then, under the guise of some righteous destiny. Maybe _this_ is my destiny,” He gestured to the house. “Restoring what my mother and father once cherished--for my children and grandchildren, and their descendants after them.” 

“ _Children_?” Dante said, raising an eyebrow. 

Vergil gritted his teeth, “The number of children is _not_ the point. The point is, do I even deserve to have this simple of a destiny after everything I’ve done.” 

Dante let out an exhausted sigh, “Vergil, please. Everyone deserves a second chance.” 

“I’ve had a thousand.” 

“No, you _haven’t_ ,” Dante said, his expression dark. “The tower of Temen-Ni-Gru… that was your first chance, wasn’t it? Are you implying that you had chances after that? I don’t recall seeing you as _you_ until we once again stood facing each other in the Qliphoth after you ate that stupid fruit. That was your second chance. And instead of seizing the power you set out to claim, you helped _me_ destroy what you had created. And now look… you’ve built something for yourself here. These people you’ve met, and made smile…” 

It was hard to imagine that anyone was happy because of _him_ , but Vergil couldn’t help but remember the way Nero had smiled through his tears when his father told him that he was proud of the man he had become. The way Dante was always so happy to see him when he came down from his room in the shop—despite his annoying and incessant teasing, perhaps that was his way of expressing how he cared. The way Mary smiled when she looked at him, how happy she had become in his presence since he had admitted his feelings to her. 

“Perhaps you’re right.” He said. 

“I know I’m right. Stop doubting yourself, dumbass,” Dante said firmly, and then he barked out a laugh. “Say, when you finish this place maybe I should come live with you.” The glint in his eyes told Vergil that his younger brother was teasing, but still, the elder let out a growl, his voice strained, 

“Will you be paying rent?”

Dante barked out a laugh, “I’m kidding, Verge. But… I hope you’ll let me come _visit_ sometimes?”

“I imagine this place holds some sentimental value for you as well,” Vergil said simply, “You may come to visit it anytime you’d like…. within reason.” 

“Damn,” Dante said, wiping away an imaginary tear, “that might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Vergil didn’t respond, leaning back on his heels and looking back at the house. The sun was setting, casting golden glows against her shattered windows. 

“Hey,” Dante said, “Our birthday’s coming up in a couple of weeks.” 

“Ah…” Vergil said, “The trivial passing of time.” 

“The others will want to celebrate,” Dante warned him. 

“Very well, I’ve come to expect such things,” Vergil sighed. “We shall have _my_ celebration here.” 

“Oh, so we’re having different celebrations?” 

“Why would we have them together?”

“We’re twins,” Dante rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t want the same cake as you,” Vergil said, narrowing his eyes. “Besides, we were born on different days.” 

“We were only born an hour apart.” 

“Different days,” Vergil repeated. 

Dante rolled his eyes. “Fine. We’ll have _my_ party at the shop.” 

Vergil nodded firmly, “I shall look forward to my invitation.” 

“Your invitation should go without saying.” Vergil glanced over at his brother, surprised. “After all,” Dante continued, “We’re brothers aren’t we? I’ll be happy to have you at my birthday party.” 

“And I’ll be glad to have you at mine,” Vergil said. 

“Then it’s decided,” Dante said, crossing his arms and starting off across the lawn. Vergil watched him go, the last light of the orange setting sun casting light in his pale hair. And Vergil imagined that he looked rather like their mother. Except, he knew, that Dante wouldn’t be forsaking him anytime soon. 


	19. Chapter 19

When Lady woke up, the pale light of a foggy morning filtered through her sheer curtains and she blinked away sleep, reaching out to the other side of the bed only to find it empty. She let out a deep sigh, sitting up a little. Vergil was sitting against the wall by the window, reading some sort of old book Nero had gotten him. He looked completely focused, and it didn’t seem he even noticed that she was awake. She liked to watch him when he read to himself. He seemed so relaxed, and sometimes he’d smile, at ease with the world in the peace of whatever poem or story he had dove into. 

He seemed to sense her gaze because he suddenly looked up and met her eyes, and she was stunned to see him smile a soft, genuine smile. His gaze holding hers with warmth. “Good morning, Mary.” 

“Happy Birthday, Vergil!” she blurted out. His eyes widened. 

“Ah yes, that’s today.” 

“We just talked about it last night! How could you forget?” Lady huffed, shifting under her comforter. Vergil stood, rolling his shoulders to stretch a little. 

“It is nothing more than the meaningless passage of time.” He moved to go to the bedroom door, but Lady reached out, grasping his hand and pulling him down onto her bed beside her. 

“You don’t remember any nice birthdays?” Vergil tensed. Lady immediately recognized the expression on his face. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to,” she whispered. 

“No,” he said, relaxing a little as she rested her hand on his shoulder. “I should. They’re good memories. It’s hard to think about them because… they were cut so short.” He sighed, looking over at her again. “I’m pleased to be making new memories with  _ you _ .” 

She grinned, leaning in close, “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, Vergil.” 

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on. I’d like to eat brunch before the celebrations begin.” 

Lady pretended to be hurt. “No response?!” 

Vergil paused in the doorway of her bedroom, a soft smile touching his lips. “You have earned my undying and unyielding support. I will  _ not _ leave you.” 

She felt a blush bloom on her cheeks and she beamed up at him. “Somehow you are romantic as ever this morning.” 

“I  _ will _ eat breakfast without you,” he warned. 

Lady sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.” 

* * *

Nero sighed, leaning back against the bedroom door. The boys were still taking forever to get ready to go, of course. He always felt like they were perfectly late  _ for everything.  _ And now, Kyrie was sick. When she emerged from the bathroom, looking rather pale, Nero frowned, gently resting his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? You don’t have to go. You can stay here and rest.” 

“It’s your father’s birthday. I don’t want to miss it. Besides. I’m feeling better already. This will pass.” 

“Are you sure? What if you have the stomach flu or somethin’—” 

“It’s okay, Nero,” Kyrie smiled, “I’m quite sure it’s not the flu.” She gently wrapped her arms around him, holding him close—resting her head against his chest. He let out a deep sigh, holding her close. 

“Alright, fine, I’ll bite. How are you so sure?” 

“Well—”

“Hey!” Kyle burst into the room, crossing his arms, “Are we going now?! I got my shoes on, see?” He pointed down to his sneakers. Kyrie stifled a laugh, gently pulling away from Nero’s embrace.

“You have those on the wrong feet, dear, switch them around, and then yes, we can go. We don’t want to be late!” 

Whatever Kyrie was going to say would have to wait till later. For now, Nero crouched down to help Kyle switch his shoes. “Alright, kiddo. Should we get the other two and go to this party?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Sounds like a plan to me too.” 

* * *

Nero found his father standing by the mantle of the old house. The floor was springy due to the damp and Nero cautiously made his way across the old parlor to stand beside his father in front of the fireplace. The painting, maybe once recognizable, was now far beyond repair—peeling and bleeding and moldy. It was kind of sad, Nero thought, that something as precious as a family portrait could be destroyed so easily. Vergil had never once tried to move it away from the rain to preserve it. Maybe the painting harbored bad memories for him. 

“I was thinking,” he said, “Perhaps I shall have a new family painting done.”

“You and Dante?” Nero asked. Vergil turned to him, eyebrow raised. 

“You don’t see yourself as part of my family?” 

Nero blinked. “Of course, I do. I just hadn’t even considered it…” 

“You and your woman, and the children. You shall all be in it. I shall commission it as soon as the house is restored.” 

“And what about Lady?” Nero asked slyly. 

“What of her?” 

“Do you want her to be in the painting too?” 

Nero watched as his father’s face flushed red. “I— what a preposterous and prying question!” Vergil growled. “M-Mary??!” 

“Did I hear my name?” Lady stood at the gaping hole where the entrance of the house once stood, hand on her hip, a soft smile on her lips. 

“No,” Vergil said shortly. 

“Mhmm…” she didn’t look convinced. “Well come on. Everyone’s here and we have to cut the cake, don’t you think?” 

“As long as there’s no singing,” Vergil said, looking over at her suspiciously. 

“Right,” Nero grinned. “No singing.” 

Dante had been somehow coerced into setting up tables and chairs once more, and Kyrie had set up a beautiful chocolate sheet cake with  _ Happy Birthday, Vergil!  _ Written across it in blue frosting. She had dotted the cake with several blue birthday candles which were now lit and ready for the little celebration. 

“Well, what are you waitin’ for?!” Nico said. “Come sit down!” 

Nero laughed as his father rolled his eyes, dropping down into the folding chair in front of the cake, before Vergil could protest Dante broke out into an off-key version of “Happy Birthday!” Soon enough everyone joined in. And Vergil was staring at his cake, a frown plastered on his face. 

When the song ended Vergil let out a huff, “Do none of you understand what ‘no singing’ means?” 

Lady wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, leaning into him and kissing his temple. “Aw, it’s okay. It’s a short song.” 

“Un _ hand _ me,” Vergil said, though he didn’t sound so sure that he  _ wanted _ her to unhand him. 

“Blow out your candles, dad!” Nero interrupted, gesturing to the cake. 

Vergil let out an exasperated sigh, but relented, leaning forward to blow out the candles. 

“Hell yeah!” Dante said, “You know what this means, right, Verge?” 

“I can’t possibly guess at what you’re implying,” Vergil frowned as Kyrie began slicing the cake. 

“I expect you to sing at  _ my _ party tomorrow,” Dante said. 

“I’d rather die,” Vergil huffed. 

“Here, Dad,” Nero said, “While Kyrie is cutting the cake—your present. From all of us.”  _ This  _ was the moment Nero had been waiting for. Vergil looked at him with a raised brow. 

“A gift?” he asked skeptically. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” Nico said, stealing a slice of cake before Kyrie could protest. “People get gifts on their birthdays, you know.” 

“We all pitched in,” Lady said, still leaning against Vergil from behind. 

“Even Dante,” Trish added with a smirk. 

“Hey! Why is  _ that _ so surprising? He’s  _ my  _ brother after all.” 

Vergil eyed his friends and family suspiciously for one moment longer, before opening the little enveloping and pulling out a slip of paper. He had never seen a slip of paper like this—that was Nero’s name in the top corner, and… Vergil’s name in the middle followed by a  _ ridiculous  _ sum of money. 

“What… does this mean?” 

“It’s a check,” Lady said, “You can deposit it or cash it at the bank. It’s from all of us, to help rebuild the house.” 

“I can’t possibly accept this,” Vergil whispered. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Trish said, “It’s a birthday present.” 

“You’re gonna have this house rebuilt in no time!” Nero said, “Happy Birthday, Dad.” 

“Thank you,” Vergil whispered, his voice strained. He didn’t dare glance up at the smiling faces around him, he couldn’t let anyone see the weakness of tears in his eyes. Kyrie set a large piece of chocolate cake in front of him. Lady pressed a kiss to his temple once more before pulling away. 

“Hey,” Nero said, patting his father’s shoulder, “You can pay us back by inviting us all over when the house is done, yeah?” 

“Indeed,” Vergil nodded, glancing up at last. Nero grinned. His father was smiling. 

* * *

“Did you have a good day?” Mary asked, gently brushing her fingers through her hair, and straightening her pajama shirt. She looked comfortable, sitting on the chair by the window, her knees drawn up to her chest, a soft smile on her lips. Vergil let out a sigh. 

“Busy,” he replied, “But not unappreciated.” Then he frowned, “I am  _ not _ singing for Dante tomorrow.” 

“You should, Vergil, he’s your brother. Half of this he planned, you know. He told Kyrie that your favorite cake was chocolate, and he made sure to get those blue balloons. I know you’re not going to believe this, but Dante put in an unusually large sum of money towards your birthday present. I have no idea where he got it, maybe he’s been saving up himself.” 

Vergil glanced down at his hands with a sigh. Time and time again now his brother was proving that he cared for him. It was strange, after everything they had been through. 

“Hey, chin up, Vergil,” Mary smiled, rising from her seat and moving towards her bedside stand. “I have something else for you too. Uh…” she flushed a little, her cheeks tinting pink, “Just a little birthday present from me.” She opened the little drawer in the bedside stand and retrieved a little package, wrapped in blue wrapping paper. 

“Mary,” Veril whispered, “You didn’t have to get me—”

“Shut up and just take it,” she said, flushing a deeper pink. “I  _ wanted _ to get you something. Open it, dummy.” 

Vergil offered her a glare, and then carefully tore the edge of the wrapping paper to reveal a leatherbound book. He traced his fingers over the cool soft leather, finding a clasp on the binding, and undoing it to open the tome, only to find the pages blank. 

“What’s this?” 

“A notebook,” Mary said softly, sitting beside him on the bed, “So you can write your own poetry.” 

“W-what?” 

“I know you have it in you, Mr. Poet. You should put down your thoughts and ideas here, and write when you have the chance.” 

“Mary….”

“That’s not all,” she said, her cheeks bright red, “Look….” she flipped through the book until Vergil saw a flash of color. She had put two loose prints in the center of the book. Vergil gently slid them out of place, holding them up so he could see them. His face grew warm, and though he desperately tried to hide his smile—it was impossible. 

The prints were the pictures Kyrie had taken of them together. The first, at Nero’s birthday party. Mary was kissing him on the cheek. He looked rather shocked, but there was a small smile on his lips under the deep red flush on his cheeks. The other was when he had finally bought the house. Mary had pulled him into a hug, holding him close. And finally, a third print showed them all together on the same occasion: Mary, Dante, Nero, and the boys. They all looked so happy. To Vergil’s surprise, even he could say that  _ he himself  _ looked happy. They looked like _a real family_ in the pictures. _My family._ He felt tears well up in his eyes, and he couldn’t stop them from rolling down his cheeks. 

“Ah! Vergil!” Mary gasped, “Are you alright?!” 

“Don’t look at me!” He snapped, turning away from her. 

“Hey,” Mary said, reaching out to cup his chin and turn his face so she could look him in the eyes, “It’s okay to cry. You are a  _ person _ , Vergil. Whole and complete no matter what. You deserve your friends. You deserve your happiness. You deserve what you’ve worked  _ so hard _ to gain. And every day you learn and grow and deserve it more and more.” 

"I'm not crying," he snapped. 

"It's been a long way home, huh?" Mary said. "But you made it after all this time—decades." She gently rubbed her thumb against his cheek, brushing away a tear, "Please know, it's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to be _you_. After all, even devils cry—" 

Before she could finish he sunk into her arms, succumbing to his tears, clinging to her. Relief filled his every breath. He was a _person_. He had found forgiveness and family despite all he had done. He could finally breathe... no, he could finally _live_. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, unsure of whether he was thanking her for being here or thanking her for loving him so unconditionally. 

Mary wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.  He felt her kiss his temple. “That’s what I’m here for. To remind you. You’re _not_ alone. We're all here for you, Vergil. Always.” 

  


The next morning, Vergil  _ did _ sing happy birthday for his brother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe that it is with this finality I end this story? I wanted to find a way to show that not only has everyone else embraced Vergil back into their lives, but Vergil has embraced them all as well. And what better way than for him to finally show unconditional love to his brother? I hope that it portrays that as well as I think. :D   
> Don't worry, friends, "chapter 20" or rather, the epilogue of this work, will be posted soon! I hope you all enjoy that as well. Thank you for reading and for sticking with me all this time.


	20. Epilogue

_ “Shh… Let him sleep. Let’s go make breakfast.”  _

Vergil blinked awake, in his warm king-sized bed. From the light outside the large, curtained windows facing the back of the estate, he could tell that it was late morning, light was filtering through the cracks between the thick curtains. It looked like it would be another cool day. For a moment, he let himself lay in bed, closing his eyes and just relaxing. He hated sleeping in, but maybe it was alright every once in a while. Then he heard a  _ crash  _ from downstairs, and he was out of bed in half a second, tossing the quilt aside, grabbing the Yamato, and zipping down the hall and down the wide mahogany staircase to the parlor. 

_ Laughter.  _ “Yes, I know, that was  _ so  _ loud!” 

He sprinted down the hall and into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to catch his breath and survey the scene. Mary was holding a large metal bowl. She was beaming, standing by the stove, where it looked like she was getting something ready to cook. On her hip, she held their daughter, who had a pacifier in her mouth and was still in her warm, heart-print, zip-up pajamas. 

“What happened?” Vergil said, brow furrowing as he pressed his hand against the doorway. Mary laughed. 

“I’m sorry!” she said, biting her lip. “I dropped the metal bowl. Did I wake you?” 

“No,” Vergil sighed, relief finally allowing him to relax, just a little. “What are you making?” 

“Pancakes!” Mary beamed, bouncing Joy a little on her hip. 

“Pancakes?!” Vergil frowned. 

“It’s Joy’s birthday, and they’re her favorite.” 

“Mary, last time you tried to make pancakes you almost burned the house down.” 

“That’s because she was being fussy and you weren’t helping at  _ all _ .”

“She had banana in her  _ hair _ , what do you expect me to do—” 

“Clean it up, duh,” Mary rolled her eyes. 

“Just let  _ me _ cook,” Vergil said, exasperated. He crossed the room to the stove, pulling the pancake mix from the cupboard, but before he could get started, Mary tugged on his sleeve. 

“What, no good morning kiss?” she teased, offering him a smirk. Vergil let out a sigh. 

“My apologies.” He smiled, gently cupping his fiancee’s chin and lifting her head so he could lean down and kiss her gently. Then he turned to his daughter, who still looked rather sleepy. Her mismatched eyes blinked up at her father as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, brushing back her white curls with one hand. “Happy birthday, little one.” 

He turned back to the stove so neither Mary nor their daughter could see the emotion in his eyes. He could hardly believe it had been a whole year since they had welcomed their daughter into the world. Joy had been a surprise. A big one, but not an unwelcome one. It had been a stressful time when Mary had found out she was pregnant. Vergil could still remember the panic he had felt, and how much distance he had put between himself and her. How that had hurt them both. He winced as he began mixing the pancake batter. Hearing Joy laughing in Mary’s arms… it was something that now he could  _ never  _ trade away—not for anything. 

“What are you thinking about?” Mary asked, leaning against the counter beside him, baby still in her arms. 

“Nothing of your concern,” Vergil replied simply. 

Mary scoffed, tilting her head to the side, “Please, I can always tell when you’re upset, Vergil,” she said. 

“It’s hard to think about this day,” he admitted. “Without contemplating my failures.” 

“What?” Mary said. 

“It’s complicated.” 

“Explain,” she insisted. 

“Do you recall when you first told me that we would be having a child?” 

“Ahh…” Mary smiled a little, bouncing Joy on her hip. “I know what you’re talking about. Vergil, that’s all in the past. You can’t let something like that affect something as special as today. Besides, you’re a wonderful father, Vergil. Even J knows that.” Mary put on a little baby voice, bouncing her daughter up and down to make her laugh, “Right, JJ? Daddy’s the best!" 

Vergil let out a sigh, “Why do you have to use such trivial nicknames? Her name is Joy.” 

“She likes it,” Mary laughed, still bouncing the baby up and down. Joy burst into giggles and then let out a laughing shriek, clinging to Mary’s shirt. Vergil sighed, shaking his head with a smile and turning back to the pancakes. 

Somewhere down the dark hall to the manor’s front parlor Vergil could faintly hear the enormous double doors at the front of the house  _ slam _ open and then shut. Heavy boots pounded on the wooden floors before Dante spun into the kitchen, letting out a barking laugh. 

“There she is!!!” He gasped, holding out his hands. 

Vergil closed his eyes tight and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Dante, what are you doing here?” 

“What?” Dante scoffed, “It’s my favorite niece’s birthday. I can’t come visit?” 

“There’s a party at noon, you know,” Mary said, though somehow finding it perfectly acceptable to pass their small child into Dante’s arms. 

“What? And miss out on Vergil’s breakfast cooking? Not a chance.” 

“Tch,” Vergil scoffed, gritting his teeth. But he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. Somehow over the past couple of years, he  _ had  _ gotten incredibly good at cooking. 

“I’ll set the table,” Mary said, crossing the room and pressing a kiss to Vergil’s cheek before pulling out the plates and silverware and then crossing the hall to the big dining room. Dante was already tossing Joy into the air, and laughing at her squeals of glee. 

“Haha! There she is, my favorite niece. Up you go!!” 

“Not too high!” Vergil groaned, turning around and leaning against the counter to see his brother toss Joy into the air again. “You forget yourself, Dante. Babies are fragile.” 

“Eh don’t worry!” Dante grinned, holding Joy close gently, “J’s part devil, huh? She’s gonna be the strongest of us all I bet.” 

Vergil scoffed. “We shall see.” 

“You say that like she has to pass some sort of test,” Dante cackled. “She’s already strong as hell, I bet. After all, her mom’s the strongest human I know. And her dad, well…” Dante smirked. “I guess her dad could never  _ really _ beat  _ me _ , so—” 

Vergil narrowed his eyes, “Maybe you should speak with a little more confidence, brother,” he said, reaching for the Yamato, which he had leaned against the island counter. “I couldn’t quite hear what you were saying.” 

“You’d try to prove me wrong  _ while _ I’m holding your daughter?” Dante smirked. 

“I could defeat you with my  _ eyes closed _ , little brother.” 

“Hey,” Mary stepped into the room, arms crossed, “If you two destroy a wing of this house  _ again _ I’ll kick both your ass— butts.” She glanced at Joy with a huff. “Dante, give me my baby.” 

“Alright, alright,” Dante laughed, passing Joy back into her mother’s arms. After a moment of quiet—Mary pulling the milk out of the fridge to fill Joy’s sippy cup and Vergil flipping pancakes—Dante spoke again: “Hey, do you two ever think about how crazy it is you ended up together?” He asked. 

Mary was bouncing Joy on her hip again, Vergil didn’t bother to turn around to answer the question. “Not crazy,” he said softly. “Fate.” He was glad he was facing away from the two of them so they couldn’t see his involuntary smile. 

* * *

Nero, Kyrie, and the children—along with Trish and Nico—arrived at around lunchtime. Vergil had made cupcakes for the occasion, decorating each one with a swirl of periwinkle frosting and blue sprinkles. The boys were already dashing outside and exploring the manor’s grounds once more. But it was cool and cloudy, so the adults and the youngest children sat together in the living space of the new manor beside a warmly lit fireplace. 

Joy was playing with her blocks with her niece—Kyrie and Nero’s own daughter, who was almost a year older than J. The two girls adored each other, and Lady knew that they’d grow up like best friends. She let out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the sofa from where she sat on the floor. The room was just as it had been before, with a few modern touches. 

Above the mantle where the old Sparda family portrait had once sat, Vergil’s new family portrait hung proudly: Vergil and Dante stood side-by-side, with Nero between them. Beside Dante and around Nero stood Nero’s own little family: the three boys and Kyrie who was holding little red-headed Aria. Arm-in-arm with Vergil stood Lady, holding newborn Joy. The painter had done a beautiful job capturing each of their expressions and the folds of the fancy clothes that Vergil had  _ insisted _ they wear. 

“Thanks for having us over, Dad,” Nero said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair beside Kyrie. His smile was bright, and he looked so relaxed that Lady couldn’t help but return his grin. So much had changed… Two and a half years ago if someone had asked her where she thought everyone would be in the future, this would have been the last place she would have guessed. But here she was, sitting by Vergil’s knee, her new family surrounding her. It seemed almost surreal. 

“Of course,” Vergil said simply, “It’s Joy’s birthday. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Somehow the two men, father and son, had bonded even  _ more _ over the fact that they were both now fathers to such young daughters. 

“JJ’s birthday,” Dante said, dropping down to his knees in front of the two toddlers, “Hey, J, Aria… let's build a city or something.” 

Vergil let out an exasperated sigh at the nickname, but Lady gently patted his knee in the hopes that some simple form of affection would prevent her fiance from murdering his brother. 

The boys burst into the room from the entryway, muddy footprints being left behind across the hardwood floors. “When can we have cake?” 

“Calm down, you three,” Kyrie said softly. Her voice seemed to fade away in the background as Lady met Vergil’s eyes. It was quiet, and despite the muddy footprints, the chaos, and the noise… he  _ smiled _ . Lady moved to sit beside him on the sofa, settling in under his arm, and then taking his hand and entwining their fingers together. 

“Hey,” she whispered, just below the noise of laughter. Vergil glanced at her, his steel-blue eyes filled with warmth. She wondered why she felt so nostalgic today—thinking about all the things that had changed in such a short amount of time, about how much they had all grown as people. Maybe it was the fact that it was her daughter’s first birthday. Milestones could do that to people, she supposed… cause them to reminisce. She wanted to tell Vergil how happy she was, how proud of him she was, how she wouldn’t trade one second away for  _ anything _ . But there were no words to really express how she was feeling. 

“I love you,” she said simply, squeezing his hand. “You love me?” 

Vergil shook his head with a soft chuckle, “Of course, _foolish_ _woman_ ,” he said, before closing the distance between them and kissing her softly on her lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 <3 <3


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